Ghost in the Bathroom
by SexyGhirardelliMmmm
Summary: Remus, our favorite werewolf, has seen it all: blood, guts, the ugliness of humanity. But for once, he'll experience love in the form of a ghost named Sirius Black. Sirius has got one little quirk though: he haunts the bathroom. Specifically, the bath tub
1. Bathroom Spirit

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter is not mine. Never has Harry Potter been mine. Mine is not Harry Potter. Harry Potter has never been mine as it is not now. Thank you.

xxxx xxxx xxxx xxxx

Summary: Remus Lupin, our favorite werewolf has seen it all-blood, guts, discrimination, the ugliness of humanity. But for once in his life, he will experience love first-hand in the form of a spirit by the name of Sirius Black. Sirius had got one little quirk though: he haunts the bathroom-specifically, the **bath tub**. SBxRL

_Dedicated to my loving class of '07_

**Ghost in the Bathroom**

By Raenef

_They say that when a person dies, the soul will seek its rightful place between the gates of the afterlife. But every so often, a soul will stray from its path in search of an earthly haven-an attempt to remain behind in the world it has known all its life. What holds it back is a mystery. Perhaps the reason is anger, guilt, fear, regret, love, or even curiosity. But all we know is that once the gates close, the wandering souls are shut out for eternity and forced to travel the ends of the earth as divine punishment. Should they find their haven and have their desires fulfilled, they may ascend into the afterlife. But those that don't are never heard from again……_

I stared into the boy's lifeless eyes. The dim light swinging overhead cast dancing shadows across his sullen face and carved black hollows where rosy cheeks should have been. I reached up to feel the sunken circles around his eyes but instantly yanked back my hand upon contact with the pallid skin. It didn't hurt, but it was close to touching a dead body. Too close.

I shuddered and dropped my hand, watching my image in the bathroom mirror mimic my movement. I stared sourly at the scrawny seventeen-year-old reflected in the glass.

"_You need to eat more, Remus," _came mother's words, artfully reproduced in my mind as her familiar, worried tone. But for all the luxurious foods of the world, I wouldn't be able to stomach a thing when all I could think of was you and where you might be. If only you knew.

"_Your father and I miss you very much, dearest. We know life must be difficult for you."_ It's quite alright, mum. Life is only hitting rock bottom and staying there.

"_We don't know when we'll be back, but I promise it will be soon. Once the war is over, we'll come and get you. I hear the Ministry of Magic is near victory." _ Oh, I don't know where you get your sources, but the war is near alright. The Death Eaters have practically taken it into our backyard and they're crushing your favorite tulips.

"_Be strong and take care. I am so sorry it has come to this and I hope to see you shortly. Love, Mum and Dad."_ Love you too, I thought with a sinking heart. As if to mark the death of my puny ray of hope, a resonating 'boom' shook the house and made the laundry basket jitter anxiously.

I sighed, rubbing my temples. I urged myself to look on the bright side of matters. At least I'm still alive, right? I attempted a smile at the mirror but it somehow got lost along the way and came out as a grimace. _Yeah, but for how long?_ A small voice nagged in the back of my head. I rolled my eyes in exasperated defeat and trudged away from the mirror. Who was I kidding?

I stooped over the bath and twisted the hot water knob. The war had been progressing steadily for almost a year now, and the Death Eaters were still at large. They were hunting down every last half-breed and mudblood in the wizarding world with no mercy. If no human was safe, what made me think that I-being the half-human that I am-could possibly escape the wrath of their purging?

I yanked off my shirt and undid my belt. The world had plunged into madness. There was no hope. Not for the Ministry of Magic. Not for any wizard nor muggle. And definitely not for little old me.

I let my discarded clothes fall to the floor and gingerly climbed into the scalding water. I hissed and quickly swapped the hot water for some cold. Ignoring the angry burn traveling up my body, I slid down until the tip of my chin rested on top of the water. The muscles in my back relaxed and I closed my eyes. Now that I was adjusting to the temperature, it was rather nice. The scorching ripples lapped against my chest, rocking me with them as though I were a child in its cradle. I lifted a hand and groped for the bar of soap. My fingers found them next to my head and took the liberty of swathing the rest of me in smooth, white foam. It was getting a little too warm though. A little too steamy and hard to breathe. My mind began to wander and drift through the dimensions between consciousness and subconsciousness.

Somewhere in between, I floated down to rest on the lush green floor of a jungle. I raised my heavy lids to see that the ceiling had been replaced with a canopy of leaves. The bathroom walls had melted away to reveal trees and bushes of all sizes and shapes. As I twisted my head this way and that, my cheeks were assaulted by flowers of every color imaginable. Somewhere in the distance, I could hear birds chirping and monkeys cooing softly to one another. I lay back and sighed happily. Now this was paradise.

Out of the corner of my eye, a streak of black flashed in the distance. I ignored it, but it appeared again, this time closer to where I lay. I lifted my head a little to try and get a better glance. Another flash. Then another, followed by another. At last, the black streak emerged from a nearby brush and slowly prowled up to my feet. It was a gigantic black panther. I felt my heart jump into my throat. I would have shot up and ran, but my body was frozen to the ground with fear. I could only watch as it stepped carefully over my legs and sat with a small thump on my middle. It then spread its enormous paws to either side of my head and leaned down to stare into my eyes. I stared back into its silvery, gray orbs and waited with baited breath. The feline opened its jaws and I was hit in the face with hot, cat breath. I squeezed my eyes shut and turned away, knowing what was coming next.

"You dropped your soap." A deep voice purred in my ear. My eyes snapped open and I blinked up at the furry creature.

"Er, pardon me. What?" I whispered incredulously.

"Your soap. You dropped it." It explained patiently.

"Oh, thanks. I guess." I offered, wondering if I was truly delirious.

"Your welcome." The large cat replied. And right then and there, I decided that I probably was delirious.

"You know, you might want to get up now. You'll drown at this rate." It continued, as though talking to people was a normal, daily routine.

"Er, 'scuse me? Not to be rude, but there's no water here." I reminded it.

"You're sitting in a bathtub. Of course there's water."

"No, there isn't." I insisted. "I'm lying in a patch of grass and you're sitting on top of me. If there was any water involved, I'm sure I wouldn't be breathing, less likely chatting with you."

"Oh, yes there is." The feline (to my growing horror) grinned and chuckled. "Here, let me show you." And before I could utter a loud protest, it raised its huge paw and smacked me square in the jaw.

"YOU-" I roared, jolting upright and causing my eyes to snap open. Reality came rushing back along with the bathroom walls and ceiling as I realized that I was, indeed, still in my bathtub and there was a handsome, young, _**naked**_ raven-haired boy that I had never before seen in my life straddling my lap and holding up the remnants of my battered soap.

"Hey, there." He smiled broadly, wiggling his fingers at me in a shy wave.

I can't recall what exactly happened but the in the next few moments, I found myself tripping over the ledge of the bathtub, landing roughly on my rear and sliding ungracefully across the linoleum floor, a panicked roar ripping from my throat all the while. I squeaked as I hit the wall in a crumpled heap and remained motionless, eyes bulging and jaw hanging.

"You! How! What the-" I fumbled for words and a flood came up but none stringed a coherent sentence.

"Hey, hey, hey! It's okay. Calm down. _Breathe._" The boy commanded, leaning over the tub rim anxiously. I inhaled shakily.

"You…how in the world? _**WHO ARE YOU?! **_AND WHAT THE **HELL **DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING IN _MY __**BATH TUB?!"**_ I screamed, jabbing an accusing finger at his bare chest. He winced at my emphasis on "_my_ bath tub" and gave an exasperated groan.

"Well, I knew you'd ask but I didn't expect _quite_ so much hostility." He explained, cocking one eyebrow worriedly. "Just sit back and let me regale you with my exciting tale. To start things off, allow me to introduce myself to you." He clapped his hands once and bowed deeply. "I'm a spirit of the afterlife and I've come to inhabit your bathroom. Please, call me _Sirius Black_. It's a pleasure to meet you."

I gaped like I had never gaped so ridiculously before in my life.

"I just arrived this evening." Sirius added brightly.

And that's when I knew that there had to be no other explanation.

I was insane.

**A/N:** Hello, my fellow readers! I've missed you so much and I sincerely welcome you back into the realm of Raenef's madness! 8D First of all, I must apologize for disappearing off the face of the earth for so long. I was swamped knee-deep with homework and had very little time to work on fics. I had been working on my second FMA ficlet "**Inverted Butterfly**" until my computer saw fit to crash and burn like never before. Fortunately, I managed to salvage my work. _Un_fortunately though, it is currently unable to be transferred from the memory stick to my laptop due to odd, technical difficulties. I'm currently praying with all my heart that it warms up to me and decides to come around so I won't have to rewrite all 13 pages of 10 pt font. Yes, you did not hear me wrong. And that wasn't even half the fic. Now, second of all, **I need to thank all of my reviewers for all your wonderful support that has inspired me to continue my humble writings. **You are the reason why I'm hunched over my laptop at 1:43 AM in the morning and typing giddily like the loony that I am. But really, I can't thank you guys enough! I honestly didn't think anyone would bother to look over my little ficlet but _wow_, I was amazed with the attention and love given to it. **Again, I thank you from the bottom of my heart, fellow readers!** I hope I may have the luck to attract you back to my lair again! **One last thing:** It would be most lovely and helpful if you'd all leave me some advice on which I can improve this current ficlet. **Everything you say will be valued and appreciated.** And remember-my only goal is to write to your satisfaction.

Until next time,

**Raenef**


	2. Malfoy Mischief

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter is not mine. Never has Harry Potter been mine. Mine is not Harry Potter. Harry Potter has never been mine as it is not now. Thank you.

xxxx xxxx xxxx xxxx

"You knew me." Sirius smiled, resting his arms on the tub rim. "You probably don't remember me though."

My head gave the tiniest twitch to the left.

"Hogwarts." Sirius prompted. "We had Potions together."

"Potions." I repeated dumbly. Well, that probably explained why I didn't remember him. I sat at the very back of the room, always looking into my cauldron that was usually bubbling to the brim with some gruesome substance or other. Besides the routine of copying the ingredients off the board, I never let my eyes wander except for the one time when a trio of fellow Gryffindors allowed their boiling concoction of Shrinking potion to explode and flood the dungeon. When the commotion had died down, frantic students hobbled to the professor with too small arms and legs fighting for the antidote. I, being seated furthest back in the room, was lucky enough to escape with only having my robes shortened by a foot. It must have been coincidence that I later discovered the unmistakable remains of a burnt, black Filibuster Firework while scrubbing the floor free of orange muck. I peeked up at Professor Slughorn-who was furiously scolding the trio and showering them with spittle-and saw, to my immense surprise, three innocent faces each fighting to hold in his laughter. They persistently argued that the potion had simply gone wrong but the professor was having none of that. He bellowed that in all his years of teaching, he had never seen a potion with such destructive capabilities. And in that moment, I didn't know what compelled me to act in such a way but I quietly hid and disposed of the firework, a guilty smile playing on my lips.

"You're not ringing any bells." I finally muttered.

"No?" Sirius questioned, a look of genuine shock crossing his face. "I was impossible to miss. You'd have to have your head down a cauldron not to notice me."

I gave in inward snort of grim satisfaction. That was exactly where my head had been during every Potions lesson.

"Well, I've seen you in the library a few times." Sirius added.

"Only a few?" I blurted before I could stop myself. "I practically live there."

"Do you, now?" The spirit replied, his shock now melting into horror, as though he couldn't imagine why anyone would want to spend his time in a room stocked with nothing but books (and old, vulture-like Madam Pince). "That sounds rather unpleasant. Say, is that why I never see you in the dorms?"

I opened my mouth but quickly shut it and looked away. I could feel the embarrassment burning on my cheeks.

"I don't stay in the Gryffindor dormitories." I mumbled rapidly. "And anyway, why are you here?" I demanded, giving the peppy spirit a piercing look.

"Well," Sirius began slowly, "I like it here." He concluded, waving one translucent arm around my dingy, grimy bathroom that hadn't been cleaned in several months.

"I _see._" I replied, arching an eyebrow skeptically. Sirius gave me a dazzling smile and nodded. I was not convinced.

"Why not go to your own home? Don't you want to visit your family?" At this, my gut twisted uncomfortably as I was reminded of my own. "This is your afterlife after all, so why not spend it wisely?"

"I am!" He argued, looking offended. "I mean it when I say I like it here. Really, I do. Besides, my parents and my little brother are probably out making muggles do loop-de-loops fifty-feet in the air."

My mouth formed a silent "oh" as the context of his words sunk in like a bucket of ice-cold water being poured over my head.

"They're…?"

"Death Eaters." Sirius finished, rolling his eyes and looking rather annoyed. "I'm not proud of where I hail from but I'm nothing like them. And as far as I'm concerned, they're as dead to me as I am dead to them. I had to listen to my own mother dear shriek "filthy traitor" for a steady hour during my funeral."

"What did you do?" I whispered, eyes wide with horror.

"_What did I do?"_ Sirius repeated, levitating a few inches out of my tub.

"Oh, let's see." He exclaimed sarcastically, raising a ghostly hand and ticking off each of his fingers. "I'd only managed to get into Gryffindor instead of Slytherin where I rightfully belong; I'd become best pals with Potter and Pettigrew instead of upholding family tradition of befriending the Malfoys; rather than mixing with my Slytherin kin, I humiliate the living hell out of them; I refuse to join in the muggle-hunts; and I even gave my brother two broken ribs when he and his crew were tormenting a little muggle girl behind the castle grounds. So in short, I'm a blood traitor."

I doubt I'd ever gaped so often in one day. Sirius sank back into the water and crossed his arms, glowering at the wall.

"They were practicing the Cruciatus Curse on her!" Sirius exploded, rising once more out of the tub and sending waves of soapy water splashing over the rim. "They had her cowering and shrieking in pain! It's not like I had a choice. I mean, you'd do the same if you were me, wouldn't you?"

I nodded numbly. The war had truly twisted many hearts. If there were students using the Unforgivable Curses around school grounds, who knew what else happened behind closed doors? I gave an involuntary shudder.

"Say, where's _your _family?" Sirius asked, cutting through my thoughts. His stormy grey eyes glittered with curiosity.

"Gone." I replied simply. "My situation's a bit like yours, though probably not as severe-" I glanced at his silvery body dubiously. "I guess you could say some things didn't work out between my parents and I (like the fact that I went canine every month). Plus, there's the war raging throughout the country. I can't blame them if they saw fit to go into hiding and cover their trails."

"_Without you?"_ Sirius was incredulous. I sighed.

"Yes, without me." I admitted. "They must have their reasons, you know. I'm still a student and I have school. I should be fairly safe in Hogwarts."

"That's the biggest load of rubbish I've ever heard in my life."

"Yeah, well now you've heard it." I muttered grimly.

A cold draft whisked through the room, making me shiver and suddenly realize that I was (and had remained) naked throughout this entire ordeal. Crimson exploded across my face as I hurriedly pulled my legs up to my chest, silently cursing myself for being such a clueless fool. I reached for a towel but found my hand frantically grasping at air. I groaned. There was no way I could grab my towel, which was hanging from the rack on the adjacent wall, without standing up.

"Erm, Sirius?" I called shakily.

"How can I be of service?" He announced, looking up from buffing his perfect, ghostly nails.

"I think I should get dressed now." I squeaked. I didn't know which I found more embarrassing: my burning face or my mousy voice.

"Knock yourself out, Remus." Sirius replied, grinning broadly and leaning half-way out of the tub.

I gave a nervous smile and prepared to leap to my feet when I saw, with great confusion, that Sirius was still grinning happily at me.

"Sirius?" I prodded.

"Right here." He waved eagerly at me. I tried again.

"Sirius." I said, trying to get my point across without having to say it. There was no way I was going to scoot across the floor to reach that towel.

"I'm not going anywhere." He replied, looking extremely pleased with all the attention he was receiving.

"Sirius, _turn around."_ I reminded, resisting the urge to smack him. It wouldn't have made a difference anyways, seeing that my hand would probably go right through his head. But to my satisfaction, he gave a disappointed "oh" and spun slowly around to face the wall.

As soon as his face was replaced with the back of his head, I jumped up and ripped the towel off its rack and wrapped it tightly around my waist. I then hurried across the room to gather my crumpled clothes and threw them into the laundry basket. I was just about to skip out of the bathroom when Sirius stopped me from escaping.

"Leaving already?" He asked, disappointment clearly showing on his face.

"Well, it's Sunday night. I've got school tomorrow." I explained quickly, giving him an apologetic smile.

"Right you are. I suppose you should get some sleep." He agreed, brightening up a bit. "I'll see you first thing tomorrow morning."

I frowned. "I didn't say you could stay."

"But I'm too lovable to kick out." He retorted, showering me with his most angelic smile. I couldn't help snorting.

"Suit yourself, then." I opened the bathroom door as he waved good night, shutting it behind me.

As I trudged up the stairs and got into bed, I lay awake for a long while, thinking of the extraordinary events that had taken place in my ordinary bathroom tonight. To be frank, this was all so impossible. _But it is possible. It happened. _The little voice in the back of my head reminded me smugly. But what would this mean I wondered. What was I going to make of all this? It was insane to even believe that I, Remus Lupin the nobody, was harboring a departed soul in my downstairs lavatory. Just what in Merlin's name did Sirius find so attractive about my house-or rather, my bathroom. All the same though, I thought as I yawned deeply and rolled over to confront mother's letter sitting innocently on my dresser, there was certainly something about this spirit that drew me to him. We had some things in common, like our ridiculously irresponsible families and our very different but equally strange lives (seeing that I was a werewolf and he was no more than talking vapor). At that, I felt the knot in my gut loosen up considerably. I reached out and snatched mum's letter off my dresser. _He's got it worse than me._ I decided, and tossed the fold of paper into the top drawer before slamming it shut. I didn't know how, but maybe-just _maybe-_something would work out for once in my life. _It'd be a nice change, _I pondered as I snuggled under my covers and peacefully drifted into sleep to the distant sound of warbled singing coming somewhere from the floor below me.

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When I woke up to the smell of smoke the next morning, I found myself seriously reconsidering things "working out."

I'd leapt out of bed, dashed down the stairs three steps at a time and burst into the kitchen to have my nose further assaulted by the unbearable black smog clogging the room. My eyes began to tear as I coughed and waved my arms around blindly.

"G-Gustacio!" I croaked, sending a blast of cold wind shooting from the tip of my wand. _Oh, Merlin. Air, I need air. _I thought as I stumbled to my left (or so I hoped), praying that the window was where I last remembered it. Giving the heavy smoke a few more blasts, I managed to clear a piece of (now gray) wall and flung myself against it. _Come on, where is it, _I begged as I inched along the wall, groping for glass. I swung my hand out as far as I could and felt something cold hit my palm. _Found it! _My mind cheered. I undid the latch and pushed open the window in record time. "_AIR!_" I gasped, my lungs rejoicing for renewed life while I allowed myself to dangle half-way out of the window. From somewhere behind me, I heard an angry "damn it, I can't see!" followed by a loud curse. I reeled myself in from over the window sill.

"Sirius?" I called uncertainly. There was no reply. But I had other things to focus on.

I raised my wand and bellowed "Clarus!" The smoke froze, as if it had been petrified and slowly twisted towards me. I gave my wand a flick and ducked as the mass of impenetrable black shot out of the window to soar up into the sky and finally dissipate. I coughed and began patting the mess out of my pajamas. But as satisfied as I was with the kitchen being visible again, I turned to see the culprit of this morning's disaster hunched over the kitchen counter.

Sirius, now a little grayish from the smoke and less translucent, was carefully cradling what appeared to be an egg in his ghostly hands and was slowly transporting it to a frying pan on the stove. But only inches from his destination, the egg slipped through his hands (I mean that literally) and smashed onto the floor to produce a puddle of yolk, white, and bits of egg shell. Sirius gave a strangled cry like a cat having its tail pulled and smacked his forehead with a slightly gray-tinted hand.

"_Bloody. Stupid. Things._" He mumbled, letting his hand slide down to cover his face.

"You were _cooking?_" I asked, incredulous. Sirius twirled around and peeked at me through his fingers.

"Not successfully," he muttered, staring down at the shattered egg, distraught. "Morning, Remus." He added as an afterthought. I was too stunned to reply as I took in the rest of the ruined food stuff. My eyes swept over the blobs of yellow on the floor. _Fourteen eggs._

"Did you break them all?" I questioned hollowly.

"I got two in the pan." He smiled sheepishly, fidgeting with his fingers. I felt my temper rising.

"Did you not notice the smoke?" I demanded.

"Oh, yeah I did. It's kind of hard to miss, you know? But it doesn't bother me, since I'm not exactly solid…"

I glared and crossed my arms.

"What I mean is it doesn't bother me because I'm sort of dead and I don't need to breathe…"

"Well I'm sorry if I'm alive and _I _need to breathe." I snapped.

"Okay, so it impedes my vision?" Sirius guessed. He was cowering against the counter now, looking like a child who had committed a horrible deed.

"Sirius, what in the wizarding world compelled you to do this?" I cried, waving my arms around.

"I just wanted to make you breakfast." The ghost whimpered, staring down at his hands. I was on the verge of verbally showing him exactly what I thought of "breakfast" when the look of disappointment on his face melted my harsh words. I sighed, my shoulders drooping.

"That's very nice of you Sirius, but I don't eat breakfast." Wow, that came out great. I tried again.

"It's okay, really. I bet I can still catch breakfast in the Great Hall if I'm quick." Sirius sunk a little lower to the floor. _Oh Merlin's beard, what is wrong with me?!_ I groaned inwardly. _Way to go with the comforting, Remus._ The little nagging voice in the back of my head smirked.

"I used to be able to cook alright." Sirius mumbled. "It's just now that I'm a ghost, I'm not _solid_ anymore so I can barely hold onto anything. Dumb little ghost quirk."

"Don't worry about it." I attempted for the third time. "There's not that much damage." My eyes flickered to the ashen walls and I quietly crossed my fingers behind my back.

"Really?" Sirius looked up at me, ears perking. I nodded and smiled, giving myself a mental kick. Before I could pull up another lame reply, the grandfather clock in the living room chimed seven times. I felt my stomach drop.

"Oh, _no. _I'm going to be late!" I groaned as I turned and sped up the stairs with Sirius trailing after me. I dashed into my bedroom and began yanking clean robes out of the closet. Transfiguration was my first lesson of the day. McGonagall was _not_ going to be happy if I showed up late.

"I am such an idiot!" I exclaimed, hopping around the room trying to drag on a pair of raggedy pants.

"Hey, Remus?" Sirius floated through the door. "I was thinking that we could put the whole breakfast fiasco behind us."

"Already behind me." I called, fishing under the bed for some socks.

"Oh, excellent." The ghost grinned. "So anyway, I was wondering if I could give it another shot at lunch, to make things up to you."

"Hogwarts serves lunch just fine." I replied, a little distracted as I plucked a spider off one sock.

"Then how about dinner?" Sirius pleaded, "You'll come home for that, right?"

"I don't eat dinner either." I snapped, my patience wearing a little thin as I struggled with my other sock.

"But-"

"And if I see you approach the stove again, I'm going to kick you out." I added with finality as I pulled my robes over my head.

"Okay, gotcha." Sirius replied quickly. "Kitchen is off-limits. But um, about kicking me out? I don't think you can do that anymore."

"What?" I spun to face him, my book bag swinging around to thump against my leg. "What do you mean?"

"You see, there's this other little ghost thing." Sirius began, looking away nervously. "Once I find a place to settle down and I get permission to stay, it's permanent."

I balked. Sirius disappeared behind the door frame.

"Don't be mad!" he called, "I'm very harmless!"

"When did I give you permission to stay?!" I cried, confusion swirling through my brain.

"Last night when I told you I was too lovable to kick out, and you said 'suit yourself.'" Sirius supplied helpfully from behind the wall.

"You call _that_ permission?" I cried, throwing up my arms. "What if I kick you out anyways?"

"NO, don't!" Sirius yelled, his head popping into view from around the door opening. "If you force me outside, I'll dissolve!"

"So?" I retorted, bustling into the bathroom to wash up.

"So don't!" Sirius begged, peeking inside. "You have no idea how horrible it is. I've never tried so I don't know, but I hear from the other spirits that once you break the contract you don't come back. So how can you have the heart to suggest-"

"Okay, okay!" I cut in, drying my face with a towel. "I get the point. If you leave, you'll evaporate. Just refrain from cooking, got that?"

"Golly, Remus you're the best wizard ever!" Sirius shouted, throwing himself at me. I jumped and shivered as Sirius' ghost-skin made contact with mine. It felt remarkably like hugging a block of ice. I had to quickly shake him off as I ran back down the stairs and came to a halt in front of the fireplace. Grabbing a handful of Floo powder, I tossed it into the fire and stepped back as the flames shimmered bright green and jumped six-feet high. I turned to look at Sirius.

"Away from the kitchen." I commanded one last time. Sirius nodded and smiled crookedly, giving me the okay sign. I waved and turned back to the fire. Something about the way he smiled bothered me but I couldn't quite put my finger on what. There was no time to ponder over that though, as I hopped into the fire and shouted "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!" Strangely, I felt something cold hit the back of my body as my living room melted away. I spun for a long, nauseating minute until the flames spat me out into the office of one Professor McGonagall.

xxxx xxxx xxxx xxxx

"Good morning, Professor." I coughed, the soot from the fireplace tickling my throat.

"The same to you, Mr. Lupin." She replied, looking up calmly from correcting a first-year's paper on color transfiguration. "I'd like you to take these graded essays to the classroom." –she nodded at a hefty stack of paper on the edge of her desk.

"Sure, professor." I replied and carefully shifted the mountain of essays into my arms. I quickly turned and let myself out of the room.

Once I reached the halls, I breathed a deep sigh of relief. I glanced at my watch and noted happily that I'd made it to Hogwarts with ten minutes to spare. As I walked down the hallway, carefully balancing the stack of paper and weaving around fellow students, I wondered if the Great Hall still had any toast left over. Maybe I could stop by and grab a bite to eat before Transfiguration. That class took a lot of concentration and the fright Sirius gave me this morning didn't help with hunger. In fact, it seemed to have scared me _into _hunger. But those thoughts didn't last long when I turned the corner and saw an unsettling sight.

A tall blonde who I recognized as Lucius Malfoy and two other Slytherins-his cronies, I guessed-were blocking off the path of what looked to be a second-year Hufflepuff. He had sandy hair, a round face, and freckles sprinkled across his nose. I imagined he'd have a rosy smile if it weren't for the fact that he was currently being cornered in the hallway. His face was twisted into an expression of utter fear. It didn't take much to figure that the boy was scared out of his mind.

"What was that you just called me?" Lucius asked coolly, advancing on the quivering boy.

"N-Nothing." He squeaked, backing slowly away from the tall, imposing blonde.

"Oh, is that so?" Lucius' lips curled in a sinister smile. "I could have sworn I heard the words _Death Eater._"

By now, a crowd was gathering around the Slytherins and their prey. A few gasps could be heard at the mention of those two vile words.

"Well?" The blonde demanded, staring down the younger boy.

"I-It's not what y-you think," the Hufflepuff stuttered, eyes flickering desperately around at the growing audience, silently pleading for help. But nobody came to his rescue. Nobody was brave or foolish enough.

"Are you telling me I've made a mistake?" Lucius questioned, eyes gleaming.

"N-NO!" The boy cried, anguish draining the color from his face and making each of his freckles appear all the more noticeable. Having backed up against the wall, he was left with nowhere else to hide. I watched with burning pity as he pressed himself against it, looking as though he wished he could just melt right through. Lucius was thoroughly enjoying this.

"Then are you telling me I'm right?" He continued, stepping towards his quivering victim. His Slytherin buddies sniggered. The crowd was murmuring now. Some clucked their tongues in private disapproval; others expressed hushed words of concern. There were even a few that outright shouted "get him, Malfoy!"

"Shall I _show_ you my opinion on the matter?" The Slytherin drawled. My eyes widened with horror as I watched the older boy draw his wand from the pocket of his robes. Before he could cast some horrible spell on the whimpering Hufflepuff, I tore my eyes away and made for the Transfiguration classroom at a run. I didn't want to see this; I didn't need to see this. I knew perfectly how the second-year felt. Being bullied into a pulp was right up my alley. I wish I could have done something, but I didn't live to attract attention. In fact, I tried to be as invisible as possible. Being what I was, I couldn't allow myself to get carried away with expectations because I knew the inevitable consequences. Whoever I befriended or came too close with would eventually discover my secret and my life would be over. My future would be torn from my grasp but moreover, I would be breaking Professor Dumbledore's trust. He was the only one that stubbornly stood by me and I told myself from the moment I set foot in this school that he would be the only one. There was no one else here in Hogwarts that would understand and accept my pain, my misery, and my shame. And so whenever there was a commotion, a celebration, anything that might draw attention to me, I would remain silent as a mouse. It wasn't about right or wrong anymore; it was about survival. And today, like all other days, would not be any different. Or that's what I was telling myself when I felt the oddest sensation ripple through my body.

Suddenly, I felt something like a yank on the back of my collar and I was pulled backwards, scrunched into a ball, and shoved into the back of my skull. Then something-another presence, it seemed-forced its way to the front of my mind and took complete control over my body. I knew this because I felt my feet shifting to turn myself around by itself. Dread was dripping through my veins as I was walked back to where Lucius and his pals were tormenting the Hufflepuff boy.

_No, no, no! _I screamed, but no one heard me. If anything, my feet seemed to pick up pace. My arms reached out, pushing people out of the way until the back of Lucius' blonde head was only a mere foot from where I stood.

The Slytherin girl standing next to him was first to notice my presence. Her eyes bored into me as she softly called out the blonde's name.

"What is it, Bellatrix. I'm a little busy, you know." Said blonde replied, voice tinged with annoyance. She nodded her head in my direction and Lucius followed her hint.

If I had been in possession of my legs at that moment, they would've crumpled lifelessly under me when the Slytherin's cold eyes stared into mine with utter loathing.

"What do you want, fool?" He asked quietly. The crowd's murmurs rose to a crescendo.

_Don't answer, don't answer him, please! _I begged.

"Let him go." My voice responded. At least it was my voice that everyone heard. But the real voice that gave the command resonated through my mind and it was definitely not mine. It wasn't unfamiliar, but at the same time I couldn't recall who it belonged to. Then it hit me. Only one person I knew could be so reckless. Only one person could be so courageous. And only this one person could be so. Damn. _Foolish._

"What?" Lucius' nostrils were flaring. I would bet every last Galleon in my Gringott's vault that the pampered rich-boy had never been opposed once in his life. But I had crossed the forbidden line and I knew I that I would pay dearly for it.

"_What?_" My voice mimicked Lucius' in an impatient snarl. "Tell me something, Malfoy. Are you deaf or are you stupid? Or maybe you're a combination of both? I told you to piss off and _leave that boy alone._"

The crowd was stunned into silence. For a short moment, even Malfoy and his crew were shocked speechless. I could hear the distant chatter of students going about their day somewhere safe and far away from the difficult situation I had put myself into. But mark my words-that wonderful moment of silence didn't last long. Because in the next moment, Lucius' cold eyes narrowed and he gave a terrible roar that made me want to sprint in the opposite direction. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the Hufflepuff crawl away.

"You are going to regret what you just said." The blonde hissed, lips curled back dangerously. I didn't doubt him.

I cringed as the angry Slytherin raised his wand over his head, thinking _why did you do this to me, Sirius?_

**A/N:** Howdy-hoo, fellow readers! I hope you've enjoyed the second chapter of **Ghost in the Bathroom** because I certainly enjoyed writing it. All your supportive reviews have made this a pleasurable experience and have motivated me into furthering this ficlet. So thank you, little munchkins! (Just kidding) I really appreciate the time you took to leave me a few words. I'm also obliged to apologize for updating so late today. Originally, this chapter was supposed to end where the first "xxxx" dividers were, but I decided to elaborate last minute today. So sorry for the wait and enjoy!

Toodles,

**Raenef**


	3. Disastrous Day

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter is not mine. Never has Harry Potter been mine. Mine is not Harry Potter. Harry Potter has never been mine as it is not now. Thank you.

xxxx xxxx xxxx xxxx

A streak of bright, electric blue whizzed over my head as Sirius deftly brought my body into a crouch. I worried for the hair on my scalp.

_Sirius, you need to stop this, _I begged. _You'll get me killed!_

Sirius replied by retaliating at Lucius with a spell of his own.

Lucius jumped out of the way, but not quite fast enough. I felt sinister glee radiate through my brain from Sirius as the blonde opponent furiously patted the fire out of his robes. A snort of laughter escaped me (courtesy to Sirius) and Lucius' eyes flashed icy blue. He swiftly brought up his wand and fired a handful of Stunning spells in my direction, spare hand still beating at his clothes.

I suppose I could say Sirius was nimble at controlling a human body, but he could have possessed one that had far greater athletic skill. I winced as he twisted me into a series of uncomfortable positions to dodge three of the Stunning spells. Boy, would I be feeling that tomorrow morning. But as agile as Sirius made me, a flimsy torso was not going to become muscle-toned simply because it was swapped minds. The fourth Stunning spell flew by closely under my arm. _Too_ close. Thank goodness Sirius seemed to notice that threat.

He flung me behind a statue of Uric the Oddball and muttered a spell I didn't recognize, jabbing my wand at an increasingly livid Lucius. A beam of brilliant orange shot out of the end of my wand and hit the advancing blonde squarely in his face before he could utter another hex.

I watched, both amazed and horrified, as the boy stood motionless where he had been hit by Sirius' spell, a look of shock and fury frozen on his face.

_D-Did you _kill _him?_ I whispered, fearing what the answer might be. And for the first time since this whole mess started, Sirius finally spoke.

_Nope._ He was awfully calm and-if I wasn't mistaken-quite _pleased_ with the result.

_Just something strong enough to put him out for good._ He explained happily.

And out Lucius went.

He made a face that looked as if he'd eaten something rotten before dropping to the floor like dead weight.

Sirius pulled me into a standing position and cautiously made his way to Lucius' unconscious body. He tilted his head and stared pensively into the boy's face. I felt a frown form across my features.

_Hm, that's odd. It usually happens faster. Looks like I'm out of practice. _Sirius announced grimly, nudging Lucius with my foot.

_What? What happens? _I demanded in alarm, and regretted asking immediately afterwards.

I gasped in revulsion as the Slytherin's previously unconscious body began to twitch violently and long, bulbous tentacles sprouted from his pale face.

That _happens._ Sirius smirked with approval.

The on-looking crowd recoiled, emitting loud screams of terror and shouts of fear. Even Lucius' two cronies thought twice before hurrying to his side.

"What have you done to him!" The girl named Bellatrix screeched, her long, black hair whipping against her face as she turned on me.

"Oh, de-bunch your panties, Lestrange. They're only tentacles; fairly harmless." Sirius drawled carelessly, bringing my hand up to buff my nails on the front of my robes. I had to disagree with him when I noticed one of the slimy appendages curl itself around the girl's arm.

"Fix him, _now._" Bellatrix commanded in a trembling voice, shaking off the tentacle to stand and face me, wand poised.

_Come on, Sirius. _I implored. _Don't you think you've done enough?_

"No." He snapped, and I knew he meant it for both Bellatrix and me.

The girl gave a roar of frustration, preparing to make Sirius bend to her will by force. But Sirius was faster. Before she could even bring her wand down on him, he already had his aimed directly at her chest.

Bellatrix looked as though she wanted to blast Sirius into a million pieces of human flesh, unknowing that she would only succeed in killing me. A long moment passed as we stood waiting, Sirius still keeping an unwavering hold on the girl with my wand while she glared back with pure menace. Finally, bitterly admitting defeat, Bellatrix let her arms fall to her sides.

"I didn't think so." Sirius murmured, slowly lowering my hand. He carefully kept his eyes on her as she spun around to inspect Lucius' face.

"Help me move him back to the common room, Augustus." She addressed the boy crouching beside him, struggling to pull Lucius into a sitting position. The boy nodded and the two of them hauled up their fallen friend, each draping an arm over their shoulders.

"This isn't over." Bellatrix hissed, giving me her ugliest glare. I moaned, feeling my heart sink into my stomach.

Then, something remarkable occurred.

A moment ago, the spectators in the crowd were cringing away from Lucius' new-found tentacles, but now that the fight was over they came rushing at me from all sides.

"Good golly, that was spectacular!" A third-year boy with tousled hair shouted in my ear.

"Did you see the way he caught Bellatrix Lestrange with his wand?" A fourth-year girl screamed to her friend over the crowd.

A short, freckled second-year shoved his way to the front of the pressing throng and beamed at me as if I'd just won a marathon. I immediately recognized him as the boy Lucius was bullying before Sirius burst into the scene.

_Ask him if he's okay!_ I prodded Sirius.

"You alright?" Sirius yelled over the clamoring.

"I'm great!" The boy yelled back, "I wanted to say thanks for back there. I was really in a fix."

Sirius gave a hearty, appreciated laugh. "It's nothing."

"Hey, you're Remus, aren't you? Remus Lupin?" He asked.

"No-"

I gave Sirius another jab.

"-yeah, that's me." He corrected, a bit grudgingly.

"That was some brilliant spell-work you did! What in the world did you hex Malfoy with?"

"It's called-"

But the Hufflepuff never learned what it was called as a gasp shook the crowd and students began backing away. The boy turned to see what the commotion was about and he too, inhaled sharply and took a step backward. I looked up and felt my heart stop.

"What is going on? Lessons are about to start so get to your respective classrooms!" Professor McGonagall barked, marching down the hall and balancing several tomes in her arms.

The crowd parted silently as she made her way to the classroom. She was almost at the door when a strangled cry sounded from somewhere further down the hall. Professor McGonagall and the students turned unanimously to see Lucius crumpled on the floor, two of his tentacles wrapped tightly around Augustus' throat. His eyes were bulging as he flailed his arms at the watching students. Meanwhile, Bellatrix was busy prying off a third feeler attached to her ankle.

It was Professor McGonagall's turn to gasp, dropping her armload of books. She rushed toward the three Slytherins and pulled out her wand. Kneeling down beside Augustus, she quickly stunned the two tentacles threatening to cut off his air pipes before turning to do the same for Bellatrix.

"What happened here!" She demanded.

"You can ask _him_." Bellatrix spat, thrusting one long finger at me. The professor turned, and upon seeing who the Slytherin girl had accused, allowed her jaw to drop open in shock. She quickly recomposed herself and came marching back down the hall.

Brave little Sirius chose that precise moment to return my body and scurry away to hide in some corner of my mind.

_You traitor! _I growled inwardly. _Take all the glory, won't you, and leave me to deal with the mess._

_She likes you more than she likes me. _Sirius countered.

_But you used _my _body!_ I bellowed at him. _What difference would it make?!_

"Mr. Lupin, explain yourself." Professor McGonagall ordered. She suddenly seemed much taller than I remembered; her lips pursed into a line and her eyes showed no mercy.

I gulped, trying to keep my legs from giving out.

"P-Professor, it wasn't his fault." The Hufflepuff who Sirius had rescued spoke up timidly. "Malfoy was giving me a hard time and Remus here helped me out."

"BY MAKING THESE DAMNED TENTACLES GROW OUT OF HIS _FACE_!" Bellatrix screamed from across the hall.

"There's no need to make such a racket, Ms. Lestrange." The professor snapped before turning back to me.

"Is this true?" She asked quietly, almost unbelievingly. Remus Lupin, one of her smartest and most well-behaved students, cursing another student into a half-deformed sea-creature.

I could only swallow the lump forming in my throat and nod, staring down at my feet and allowing the burning shame to spread.

For a while, Professor McGonagall did nothing other than scrutinize me from head to toe. I could feel Sirius shifting about uncomfortably in the back of my mind. Nobody moved. Nobody spoke.

"Mr. Rookwood and Ms. Lestrange, take Mr. Malfoy down to the hospital wing." She commanded, producing a stretcher. "And get yourselves looked over by Madam Pomfrey too."

"The rest of you, get to class." She barked, waving an arm at the students.

They didn't need telling twice. People began jostling each other to hurry to their lessons, talking about the fight in low murmurs. A fellow sixth-year gave me an encouraging thump on the back as he strolled past, but I hardly felt it. My mind was going numb from trying to predict what Professor McGonagall would do with me.

"Mr. Lupin," She said in a soft but firm voice. "Come see me after class. I'll have you know that I am _very _disappointed in you."

I nodded stiffly before bending down to gather the scattered essays Sirius had dropped during his duel, not daring to hope for the better.

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Transfiguration passed by in a blur. I could hardly remember practicing transfiguring my desk into a pig and back. Every time I did, I couldn't help imagining long, gooey feelers popping out of its face.

Professor McGonagall signaled the end of class when she swept her wand over the room and everyone's desks returned to their original, wooden states. The desk next to mine gave a last, stubborn "oink" before its tail vanished with a loud pop.

"Remember to practice the incantation; pronunciation is crucial for this particular spell!" She shouted as students began packing up their things into their book bags, chattering cheerfully amongst themselves.

"Your essays on furniture transfiguration shall be collected Thursday. Class dismissed!"

Amid a series of groans and protests, the sixth-years filed out of the classroom, some wiping their robes free of mud (a few pigs came with a layer of dirt and grime). I shoved my last book into my bag and swung it over my shoulder. Glancing at the professor, who was bewitching a rag to scrub the desks free of sludge for the next class, I noticed that she was wearing the same expression she'd had when apprehending me. My stomach did a flip. If I'd held any hopes of her anger dissipating somewhat during class before, they were definitely gone now.

My legs felt like twin lead pipes as I made my way to the front of the classroom, palms sweating and head lowered.

"Professor, I apologize for what happened this morning." I began, praying that she wouldn't hear the unease in my voice.

She stared intently at me from over her desk, saying nothing.

"I won't let it happen again." I continued, becoming increasingly nervous with each passing moment.

She sighed heavily and rubbed her temples with her forefinger and thumb. "To be honest with you Remus, I did not believe you to be the type of student to cause trouble."

I wanted to tell her "I'm not" but the words seemed to have gotten lost on the way to my mouth.

"This is the first time I've ever had to handle such problems with one of my best pupils. Out of them all, you had the best record."

_Not anymore, _I thought. Sirius' fabulous stunt had put a sound end to that.

"But just because you're a good student does not mean that you will receive any favoritism from me. Detention tomorrow at seven. Mr. Malfoy will be dealt with by Professor Slughorn."

Sirius gave an indignant huff. I nodded silently and turned to leave, but Professor McGonagall stopped me.

"Just a second," she called. I turned in confusion, wondering if she had changed her mind and decided to give me double detention for mutating Lucius' face.

"I didn't know you were friends with Sirius Black." She said softly, studying me with curiosity.

I stared, feeling my gut twist. It was impossible, but had she seen through the act? Did she somehow discover that I was hiding Sirius' at the back of my skull? Otherwise, how did she-

"He was an extraordinarily intelligent boy, but also proved to be the biggest thorn in a teacher's side." She continued, eyes looking somewhere far off.

"That spell you cast on Mr. Malfoy today was one of his trademarks-he used to prank students with it every other week and have them sent to the hospital wing barely recognizable. Naturally, I was surprised you knew it."

I blinked, dazed.

"Unfortunately, he's no longer with us…" Professor McGonagall looked away and dabbed at the corners of her eyes.

I was speechless, wrought with awkward tension.

"Well, I better not hold you up." She finished, blowing her nose into a handkerchief. "Get to your next class."

I nodded and hurried out of the room. I was still wrestling with what she had said in my mind when I stepped into Charms amid a deafening applause.

xxxx xxxx xxxx xxxx

The rest of the day dragged on miserably. I kept turning over Professor McGonagall's words, but too many distractions hurdled my way. To my immense surprise, it became apparent that the whole school knew about my run-in with Lucius Malfoy. It also became apparent to me that he was no welcome figure around Hogwarts. I had walked into Charms to the ear-splitting cheers of my fellow classmates, which successfully knocked poor Professor Flitwick off his stack of books. Herbology wasn't any better, seeing as the moment Professor Sprout left the room to fetch a tray of Snapping Dandelions, half the class jumped out of their seats, dragged me to my feet and paraded me around the classroom on their shoulders. My flustered protests were heartily ignored as the human train jounced me about. It was impossible to find any peace.

The only class that acted contrary was Potions. The Slytherins were up to their knees in loathing for me, while the rest of the Gryffindor sixth-years put every last ounce of energy in defending my honor. I spent the class ducking behind my cauldron as war secretly waged between the two opposing halves behind Professor Slughorn's back. Both sides emitted hushed catcalls and made rude gestures over their bubbling potions. Eventually, Sirius was also roused by the ruckus and joined in the mockery of the Slytherin's, loudly making colorful comments in my head. I never thought I wished I could put a plug in his mouth so badly.

By lunch time, I decided that I'd had enough attention to last me a lifetime and managed to escape to an empty classroom with a minimal number of vigorous back-slaps. I rubbed my shoulders as I sank into a dusty chair, breathing heavily.

"Sirius, we need to talk." I said aloud.

_Listening,_ the ghost chimed, shifting in the back of my mind.

"What the hell were you doing back there?! _Why _did you posses me and attack Lucius Malfoy like that?! _You possessed me!_" I repeated, the shock and anger of sharing a body with another person finally hitting home now that I had the time to sit quietly and think about it.

_Relax, you only got off with a detention right?_ Sirius laughed, clearly not seeing the seriousness of the situation. _McGonagall didn't even yell herself hoarse at you._

"Only? _Only?_" I wondered disbelievingly at his thick-headedness. "I've never had a single detention in all my years attending Hogwarts but you just waltz in and destroy it all!"

"_And_ you possessed me!" I added, sounding more hurt than I wanted to let on.

Sirius gave a low whistle.

_Remy, you are truly impressive._ He said slowly, awestruck. _You have honestly never had a single detention in your life?_

"You probably had a handful every month while you were alive." I snapped.

_Every other week, _he replied cheekily, wiggling with pride.

I shook my head, not understanding what he was so proud of. The room was starting to feel stuffy so I got up to crack open one of the dust-caked windows.

_But really, Rem, you shouldn't worry so much. Detention is fun, especially when your best mates are there with you._

I banged my knee roughly into the desk as I stood.

"_Are you out of your mind?_" I said hoarsely, sitting back down and grasping my throbbing kneecap.

"Look, Sirius. I don't care what your concept of detentions may be but I'm darn certain it isn't anywhere near mine. Didn't we agree that you'd stay out of trouble?" I pulled up my robes to inspect the damage to my leg joint.

_We agreed that I'd stay out of the kitchen._ Sirius replied carefully.

"Staying out of the kitchen meant staying out of trouble and you've been causing me nothing but trouble." I retorted, gingerly prodding the skin that made contact with the table edge.

_Hey, Lucius Malfoy deserved that one._ He shot back. _I don't think even someone as dense as you could miss his character._

"I'm not _dense_ and of course I know what kind of person he was," I muttered as I stared worriedly at the rapidly forming bruise on my knee. "But that gave you no right to go off and blast his face into that-that ugly thing."

_I thought it was quite beautiful. Much better than he originally looked anyway._

"Then you must be blind." I concluded. Pushing my robes back down, I got up once more-this time careful to avoid the dangerous desk corners-and shoved open a window. A cloud of dust popped off the glass and sent me into a fit of coughs. When I finally managed to open my eyes again, I did so right in time to see Nearly Headless Nick float through one wall of the classroom and bob over the desks.

_Hey, another ghostie!_ Sirius exclaimed.

I felt the bottom of my stomach drop out as I realized what was going to happen next.

_No, Sirius, no! No no no no no-_

But it was too late. I felt the familiar feeling of being yanked backwards, scrunched up and tossed into a corner of my own mind as Sirius took over my body once more.

"Nick!" He cried, beaming at the school ghost.

Headless Nick turned to see me and his transparent face split into a wide grin. "Remus! It's good to see you! I heard about that little jostle you had with Lucius this morning. Striking performance, I must say. Only wish I could've been there to see it myself. I think quite a number of us have been itching to do something like that for some time, but don't say you heard it from me."

While I spun into misery, Sirius soared into a flurry of joy. "I know, I know. But don't you think there's something special about it? Didn't the spell I use remind you of someone?"

"Sirius Black, of course! Trademark of his, that little mischief-maker." Nick roared with laughter. "I had no idea you had that trick up your sleeve too. When did he teach you?"

"He didn't teach me." Sirius was shivering with excitement. "I knew because I'm-"

_OH, NO YOU DON'T-_

I can't be certain if it was rage or adrenaline, but I knew that Sirius had taken it too far. He also realized that fact when I dragged him back and forced my way into control of my body. A little unsteady from the sudden impact, I teetered backwards and grasped a chair-back for support.

"You alright, Remus?" Nick asked, surveying me with concern.

"Perfect." I wheezed, trying to get a hold of myself. Not willing to risk a battle for dominance over my body to ensue, I muttered a quick farewell and rushed unsteadily toward the door.

"Are you sure?" Nick called after me.

"Absolutely!" I turned to reassure him as I backed out the door. "There's nothing to worry-"

_Crash._

"-about." I finished lamely, staring down at the stupid Vanishing Cabinet that I'd so stupidly walked into and kicked over.

Somewhere in the distance, another crash followed mine and the voice of one very irate Filch could be heard cursing at the culprits. A meow emanated from the floor and I found myself looking into the lamp-like eyes of Mrs. Norris.

_Run. _Sirius commanded.

I didn't need him to tell me that.

I turned and sprinted down the hallway, eyes darting back and forth searching for somewhere to hide.

"Is she following?" I panted, feeling the bruise on my knee do its job.

_No,_ Sirius assured me.

I hurdled around the corner and into a section of hallway that I rarely traveled through.

_STOP! _Sirius yelled in my head, _Stop right here!_

"What? What is it?" I skidded to a halt.

_Turn to your right._ He instructed.

I spun to face a blank wall, confused.

_Take out your wand and tap the wall twice._

"_Are you mad?_" I whispered, but I pulled my wand out of my pocket anyways and did as Sirius told me. The wall shimmered and melted away to reveal a hidden door. I grabbed the knob, flung it open and threw myself inside. The opening shivered once more and then it was gone, plunging me into unfathomable darkness.

Panting heavily from possibly the longest run in my life, I rapidly produced a small, blue flame from the tip of my wand. The odd cavern in which I'd thrown myself into without a second thought became slightly illuminated to reveal four walls. So it was a room, I observed. Waving my flame around, I examined my surroundings and noticed several mops leaning against the far wall, accompanied by a feather duster and two buckets.

_This is where Filch used to keep his spare brooms and the sort. _Sirius explained. _He doesn't use this place anymore, so James and I figured it could serve as a quick hide-away when we…you know, did what you just did. It's absolutely safe in here._

"It's…not bad." I murmured, a little dazed as I sat down on one of the upturned buckets. "I hope you didn't have to use this often."

_You don't want to know._ He laughed.

I shook my head and scooted up against the wall where the entrance had appeared, snuffing out my blue flame. Feeling a little ridiculous, I pressed my ear on the cool surface, straining to pick up any sound that might indicate Filch was coming this way. Sirius had said he didn't use the place anymore, but I wouldn't put it past him not to check.

I waited in the dark, my heart doing a painful drum-roll against my ribcage. It was faint, but I could hear someone's voice shouting in the distance. A pair of feet was pattering down this section of the hallway. It was getting closer…closer…and then two giggles. Doing a double take, I pressed my ear harder against the wall and discerned not one but two pairs of feet stamping their way closer toward me.

Without the slightest warning, the footsteps came to an abrupt halt. I picked up a few low murmurs and another giggle before I was blinded by a flash of white light. Someone had opened the wall and two 'someone's were piling into the room with me. I gasped, toppling off the bucket. I had not the foggiest clue who the two intruders may be, but Sirius seemed to know them. I felt him jump in my mind.

"Did you see his face?" A male voice chortled.

"I thought steam was going to blow out of his ears!" Another male voice, a squeakier one, replied eagerly.

"We got him good this time." The first voice continued, "Filch'll probably give us a week's worth of detention for the mirror, but the look on his face was priceless."

Well, that explained the crash I heard after I knocked over the Vanishing Cabinet.

"You think he'll tell Dumbledore?" The second voice asked, worried.

"Nah, Pete. We'd have to smash something bigger and more valuable."

Then, two things happened at once. I sneezed from the dust and Sirius muttered two names: _Peter and James._

"Who's there?" The deeper of the two voices demanded. Two blue flames flickered to life across the pitch black room.

I froze. Sirius jumped at his chance and, for the third time that day, pushed me into a corner as he spread himself to possess the rest of my body.

"James!" Sirius whispered, his voice overflowing with clashing emotions.

A pause.

"Who are you." This time, the voice was a cold threat.

"It's me, Siri!" Sirius exclaimed.

I groaned. It was as if I'd been hit with a bludger. It was over. It was all over now.

"Who the hell do you think you are! Don't play games with me." The voice rumbled with fury, but I didn't miss the touch of pain in his tone.

Or maybe it wasn't over yet. I may not be certain of the identities of the two voices, but Sirius was. And judging from the tremors of agitation flowing off him, these were no mere acquaintances. The overwhelming feelings entwined with his words could only mean one thing-they must have had a close relationship with Sirius while he was alive. That was when I formed a plan.

_Sirius, _I said quickly,_ don't do this. They don't know it's you._

I felt Sirius twitch and slowly rise to his feet. _Well that's about to change._

_No! Sirius, listen to me! _I insisted. _If you walk over there right now, they won't be seeing you; they'll be staring into the face of some stranger._

_It's okay, I'll explain to them. _Sirius took a step forward. _It's James. He'll understand, I know he will._

I stopped to wonder if he was assuring me or himself.

_And what if he doesn't, _I asked him softly. _What if all he sees is some loony trying to impersonate his _dead_ friend._

Sirius paused. I waited, trying to ignore the strange sensation of something twisting and fighting to break out in the pit of my stomach. I took a deep breath and braced myself for what I was about to say next.

_Sirius, face it. You're in the afterlife now. You should be going wherever it is that spirits are supposed to go. You're not supposed to be here. You don't belong here. _I fought to keep my voice devoid of emotion. _This isn't something a little explaining will resolve._

_No, don't say that. _Sirius whispered, the hurt palpable in his voice.

_You know I'm right, _I continued, hating myself for what I was doing to him. _Deny it all you want, but you know that this is all an intangible dream. You know you can't go back to the way life was before, Sirius. It's time you let it go and accept things the way they are._

I knew with piercing guilt that I'd punched the right button when he abruptly turned and fled from the room. As hard as I might try, I couldn't ignore the waves of agony nor the bitter, salty tears sliding down my cheeks.

xxxx xxxx xxxx xxxx

I sunk into the hot water, letting out a sigh of appreciation. Today had been the toughest day of my seventeen years. Sirius had proven to be a handful, my classmates wouldn't stop pestering me, and Dumbledore saw fit to add to my responsibilities. Fingering the shiny Prefect badge in my hand, my mind wandered back to the Headmaster's office.

"_But Professor, I don't understand. Why?"_

"_I thought I explained quite well," Professor Dumbledore smiled at me over his half-moon spectacles, "Mr. Ackart, the previous Gryffindor prefect of your year, left with his family to move out of the country-"_

_More like went into hiding, I thought. His wasn't the first family to try and slip away from the war. _

"_-and thus leaving his position open. After much consideration, I believed you to be the most suitable to replace him in his job."_

"_But…why me?" I wondered._

"_Well, I don't see why not." The headmaster replied, looking pleasantly surprised at my question and lacing his fingers together. "You're very well-qualified to be Prefect. Professor McGonagall would agree with me that you're an outstanding student."_

_With questionable recent activities, I added silently, wondering if she also told him about Lucius' new appearance._

_As if he could detect my thoughts, the professor chuckled merrily. "Mr. Lucius is no longer sporting tentacles on his face. The effect of the spell only lasted an hour."_

_Ah, so he did know._

"_Seeing as Professor McGonagall has already spoken with you over the matter, I won't further question you about it." He said softly, peering at me over his hands with those twinkling blue eyes of his. I could've sworn that he winked._

"_But professor, I'm...I'm a…"_

"_Werewolf." The Headmaster finished calmly. "Don't be ashamed of saying it and never let it hinder you from doing anything, Remus."_

"_I don't deserve this," I muttered, looking away to let my eyes rest on one of the many odd gadgets on his desk. With my recent acquisition of Sirius and his outrageous behavior, I honestly felt that I had no right to accept the role of Prefect. "I'm sorry Professor. I'm sure you can find someone better than me for the job."_

"_Why?" He asked lightly. "Because you're a little different from the average wizard? You have an abundance of unrecognized potential, Remus. What you need is an opportunity to put that potential to use."_

_I looked up at him skeptically._

"_I'm certain that you'll handle the responsibilities of a Prefect spectacularly."_

_I looked into the Headmaster's kind eyes and it felt as if those gentle, blue orbs could see right into me, through my mind, could see even the spirit I was hiding at the very back of my head._

"_Secrets can remain secrets." He smiled, ending our conversation._

"Secrets can remain secrets." I murmured, tracing the shiny golden 'P' on the Prefect badge.

"So that's how you see it." Sirius was perched on the edge of the tub, idly playing with the steam rising from my bath. "I'm a secret that ought to forever remain a secret."

"You're mistaken, Sirius." I began, pulling myself into an upright position. "I was thinking about-"

"I know what you were thinking." Sirius cut in before I could explain myself. "You want me to stay locked up in the house, away from the people I love. You want me to mull over my death, have an epiphany, and move on into the afterlife."

"I never said that!" I protested.

"That's what you want." Sirius said softly, dropping his hand into his lap.

"It's not-"

"Then why did you stop me!" He exploded, turning to glare at me with burning gray eyes. "Why wouldn't you let me talk to James?"

"You know why." I retorted, turning away and struggling to ignore the fresh pang of guilt.

"Right, I forgot. It's because I'm _dead._" Sirius snapped, clenching his fists. "You don't belong here, Sirius. Go where all the good little ghosties go and leave us in peace!"

"Well, maybe if you weren't such a showy idiot I'd actually think about keeping you!" I snapped back as my tolerance finally gave away after being steadily tried for the entire day. "You've _ruined _my reputation, you used me to afflict harm on another student, you've made my life a mess in one day-"

"And I gave you fame!" Sirius added angrily. "What have you got to complain about, _Prefect?_"

"I didn't want either of those!" I shouted, rising out of the tub. "You possessed me and used me to fulfill your selfish whims! I never wanted anything! All I ever asked for was a peaceful life-"

"To be _invisible_. To be a _nobody._" Sirius mocked.

"YES, TO BE A NOBODY!" I bellowed, "YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND! YOU COULDN'T POSSIBLY UNDERSTAND! I'M NOT LIKE THE OTHERS, NOT LIKE YOUR FRIENDS! I'M A-A-"

I gritted my teeth. I couldn't say it.

"Yeah, I know what you are." Sirius snarled. "You're a _coward._ You're a _sissy. _You're _spineless._ You'd rather be walked on like a rug than do something about your situation. You can't hold up a finger to anyone. You're a _teacher's pet-_"

I flung my fresh bar of soap at Sirius' head. It flew right through him to bounce off the opposite wall and slide away, but I'd gotten my message across. We both stood, glaring daggers at each other for what seemed to be an eternity. The tension in the bathroom was almost tangible.

"Fine." Sirius muttered, breaking the silence. "_Fine. _You win. Do what you like. I'll be up in the attic brooding over my non-existenceif you need me."

Without further ado, he spun around and swiftly glided through the bathroom wall. I stood staring at where he had been, grinding my teeth.

"Fine!" I shouted at the wall, "I hope you have fun with the mice! See if I care!"

I clambered out of the tub and yanked a towel off the rack.

"And I am _not_ a sissy." I grumbled to the mirror as I wrapped the towel around my hips with more force than was needed.

**A/N: **I'm a week late, I know, and I am very very sorry about it. I came down with some major tummy-aches last Saturday; I've been studying for finals last week (summer school) and I currently have a relative over at my house who joined in the fight over the computer with my Dad and I. But I know, those are just excuses. I should've gotten this up a week ago and I'm sorry. Feel free to beat me with clubs. Personally, I'm not all that satisfied with this chapter. I can't quite put my finger on what though; it just feels like it's lacking something. Or it could be that I've been rereading it too many times while checking for mistakes. No worries though, summer school is officially over for me and my relative will be going back in about a week. I promise a better chapter next time-one where you'll meet James and Peter.


	4. Rain and Fever

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter is not mine. Never has Harry Potter been mine. Mine is not Harry Potter. Harry Potter has never been mine as it is not now. Thank you.

xxxx xxxx xxxx xxxx

October's Tuesday was accompanied by chilling winds and sleets of rain. Hogwarts' castle grounds became patterns of blurred and graying colors when one glanced out the window. All the creatures had turned in for the day, except for perhaps the giant squid, who could be seen floating lazily in its pond. It was his kind of weather. The clouds nodded to him in greeting as they floated balefully overhead, and the sky reflected an ominous black. Black and ominous like Sirius' eyes the last time I saw them. We still weren't on speaking terms, seeing as he refused to come down from the attic and I refused to console him out of there. But even then, I found no peace. Sometimes my resolve to let him sulk to his heart's content would crumble slightly and I would find myself climbing up the dusty stairs to the attic. But each time I would be halted by the dull thud of something heavy forcefully hitting the attic walls. Despite being under isolation, Sirius made it very clear that his mood wasn't lifting as he tossed my old family possessions about. Nothing had changed this morning when I groggily stumbled out of bed to the soft clink of shattering porcelain. And then, there was still my first ever detention…

"-That's right. Should've thought twice before drawing your wand, eh?" Filch threw me a dirty look over his shoulder as we progressed down the dark hallway. The lantern swinging from his hand cast long, gloomy shadows over the suits of armor and the sleeping portraits hanging beside them.

"You featherbrained Gryffindors are always causing a commotion or breaking my valuables. Serves you right to be punished. _I _only wish the Headmaster would allow me the honor of hanging you by your ankles from the dungeon ceilings. I've kept those shackles well-oiled haven't I, Mrs. Norris?" The caretaker cooed to the fluffy creature at his feet.

I grimaced and looked away.

Several turns later, I found myself gazing with awe at the glittering walls of the trophy room.

"Wait here and don't touch anything." Filch hissed. "I've got to go fetch that Malfoy kid. Enjoying your detention so far, I hope."

He gave a sinister cackle before shutting the heavy oak doors firmly behind him.

_Well, _I thought, _silver lining. _Things could be worse, right? Malfoy could have been permanently hexed with his slimy appendages, I could have been expelled for criminal assault against another wizard. Yes, things weren't that bad. Nobody knew about my condition and I had remained safe and harmless for another month. _Things will brighten up,_ I told myself with as much cheer as I could muster.

The heavy doors banged open and I turned, expecting to see Filch return with Lucius in tow. Instead, I was intruded unexpectedly upon by two boys.

"I'm telling you Pete," the taller of the two said heatedly, "I'm going to hunt him down if it's the last thing I do."

"But maybe it was just a mistake!" The one, which I presumed to be Pete, cried as he waddled after his companion.

"He knew where Filch's broom closet was! There's no mistake about it. _No one _knows where it is besides you, me, and Filch himself." The taller boy spun around to face Pete and grabbed the front of his robes. "Besides, he knows something about Sirius."

"Like I mentioned," Pete insisted, raising a fat finger, "he may have stumbled across it on his own. And I admit it was strange that he called himself Sirius, but don't you think you're overreacting, James?"

"Who in their right mind would go around impersonating a dead man?" James burst out, giving the front of Pete's robes a little shake. "Something is seriously wrong about this whole picture. I don't know what it is yet, but I'm not letting it go."

"Okay, okay." Pete whispered, "just drop the subject for now-" and here, he threw me a nervous look and frantically jabbed his finger in my direction. James followed his gaze and our eyes met. I was still standing frozen to the spot, unsure of what to do or say, rather like a deer caught in headlights. I quickly averted my eyes to the floor, unable to avoid the feeling that I'd interrupted a private moment. James, though, seemed not to mind much. He dislodged his fists from Pete's robes and strode to me, eyes bright with curiosity.

"Hello, there. Sorry you had to see us fight." James grinned, extending a hand. "I'm James Potter and that's my best mate, Peter Pettigrew. Glad to meet you."

I reached out and grasped his hand in a brief handshake. Timidly, I raised my eyes and stared up into his face. The wide smile plastered all over his features surprised me.

James Potter, with his head-full of untidy black hair and lively hazel eyes, was quite handsome. He had a thin face, long nose, and a lady-killer smile. Skinny as he was, he seemed strong. His friend, Peter Pettigrew, on the other hand, was quite the opposite. Short, a little heavy around the middle, beady eyes, and slightly protruding front teeth. His eyes flickered around uneasily underneath his neatly combed, mouse-brown hair. James Potter and Peter Pettigrew. They were in interesting pair with interesting names. Names that sounded oddly familiar though I was quite sure I'd never heard of them before.

"So what's your business here?" James inquired, sizing me up with keen interest.

"D-Detention." I muttered softly, once again averting my eyes in embarrassment.

"Excellent!" He exclaimed.

I stared at him, baffled.

"We're in the same boat, mate!" James chortled, slinging an arm across my shoulders.

I couldn't suppress a small grin of my own. Something told me that this James Potter was going to make detention a lot better than it originally sounded. Silver lining, indeed.

"So what's your crime?" I asked hesitantly.

"Peter and I broke Filch's full-length body mirror on the third floor." James replied, nonchalant. "What's yours?"

"I gave Lucius tentacles."

My response did a number of things: James' head whipped around to survey my face carefully and Peter let out a frightened squeak, the color draining from his face.

"You're not…Remus Lupin?" James wondered.

I gave a tiny nod, not understanding why my words had elicited such reactions. Seemingly negative reactions.

"You…" James growled, lunging at me.

I had the wind knocked out of my lungs as James slammed me roughly backwards against the glass case that held last year's School Cup. The corner of the case cut painfully into my lower back but I dared not move. James was towering over me, one arm placed across the area where my neck met my chest. _Not high enough to do me serious harm, but more than enough to cause me discomfort, _I noted. Looking up with utter bewilderment, I saw that James' face, which had beamed joyfully at me only moments before, was now twisted into uncontrollable rage.

"How did you know Sirius' spell?" His voice was low, deadly, and-I now recognized-identical to the one that had threatened me yesterday in the broom closet.

That's it- 

And it all came flooding back to me. The Vanishing Cabinet, the mirror, Filch's abandoned broom closet…the two voices I had heard in there must have belonged to James and Peter. Then that means-

"Answer me!" James demanded, adding pressure to my chest.

I gave a small cough. "I-It's not what you think."

James gave me a long stare. "Do you know why that spell was called a trademark?"

I shook my head.

"That's because Sirius created it himself. I never recalled that he taught it to somebody else." James glared down at me dangerously.

"It's complicated." I attempted. "I came to know Sirius, but under very…_different_…circumstances. And in a way, he did sort of teach me the spell…recently."

I could tell that James was not convinced. If anything, he looked more agonized than before.

"He's gone."

I bit my lip.

"I don't know what game you're playing, Lupin," James ground out, "but it's _sickening._"

"It's not a game-"

"How twisted must your heart be to involve a dead man?" James cried, digging his arm into chest. "What did he ever owe you? Is it because he's a Black? Is that justification enough to torment us with his memory, however the hell you're doing it?"

I lifted my head, about to deliver another protest, when I was cut short by the look in James' eyes. The look of depthless anguish in his eyes. Anguish that was most likely masked by dazzling smiles on a daily basis. Anguish that was once masked by anger. But the anger was beginning to chip and fall away, revealing that anguish, those twin pools of fathomless anguish. Anguish that resembled-no, perfectly matched-the anguish I had observed in Sirius' eyes. He had confronted me with those eyes just as James did now, eyes filled with the pain of a loss that they should not have experienced; should not have known. I swallowed the lump rising in my throat and fought to restrain the fresh guilt ripping through my heart.

"_HEY!_ WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING OVER THERE!"

Filch had returned with several mops under his arm and Lucius following sullenly behind, carrying a bucket of rags. Upon seeing my predicament, he dropped the mops with a clatter and hurried forward, brandishing a fist while cursing loudly.

James dropped his arm and swiftly moved away, but never breaking eye contact with me. His message was clear: _this wouldn't be the last that I'd see of him._

"POTTER! ARE YOU LOOKING FOR ANOTHER DETENTION?!" Filch bellowed, spit flying from his mouth as he flew at James. "EXPECT PROFESSOR MCGONAGALL TO HEAR ABOUT THIS, JUST YOU WAIT-"

But James was paying no heed to the infuriated caretaker; he simply kept his eyes trained on mine. I saw the anguish withdraw behind a carefully poised mask of cool calmness, now hidden but still remaining.

"-You hear me?! I want this entire room scrubbed spotless-trophies included! No magic, only elbow grease! Malfoy, Lupin, you're picking Rubella Fir behind Greenhouse three for Professor Sprout. Follow me."

I walked stiffly after Filch and through the castle's front doors, into the pouring rain. The wind bit through my robes and the water beat against my back like thousands of tiny icicles but I didn't care. I barely paid any attention to them as I squelched around in Professor Sprout's field behind the Greenhouse, constantly slipping in the soft earth. I worked in silence, yanking out tuft after tuft of the crimson plant and discarding them in a basket. With every bundle I unearthed, a splatter of bright red would explode from the severed roots of the plant, painting my hands like blood. Like the hands of a murderer; a monster that caused pain to those around me. Yet every time I raised them for close speculation, the heavy rainwater would dash the carmine liquid away and leave my hands clean again. Then when I reached for the next tuft, the cycle would repeat itself, over and over. Just like the endless cycle of the full moon. That day of every month the monster would appear, tearing and shrieking for freedom-for bloodlust. And every following morning I would awake collapsed in the confinement chamber, aching all over with my own blood decorating the furniture, decorating my hands, caked on my face, clinging along my torso. The gashes or the loneliness-I didn't know which hurt more.

And if that wasn't enough, now Sirius had joined in the parade. James too. They wore the same looks as Mum and Dad had on that first transformation: horror, shock, disgust, fury, and _anguish._ They tried to hide it, to adjust it, but now they were out of the country. When I watched them go for the last time, their faces had lost the shock and fury. The horror and disgust had dulled. But the anguish was written in every line of their features. I could never forget. And Sirius…he had donned that same appearance before escaping to the attic. And James…he was the same. Why did it always end this way? Why did I always cause people pain? No matter how hard I tried to be a good little boy as Mum had instructed before she left, no matter how much I tried to isolate myself, I somehow always managed to bring others sadness. I always made them feel anguish when they looked upon my face…always……

I heard my own strangled sob before I realized I had been crying. The ice-cold rain had chilled my skin so that I could not feel the tears but they were still there. They mingled with the frosty droplets that fell upon my face, cutting small paths in the streaks of mud smeared across my cheeks. I no longer bothered to try and quell the shaking of my limbs as tears, rain, mud, and the blood-red stains swirled, mixing together.

In the icy sleets, I allowed my pain to devour me.

xxxx xxxx xxxx xxxx

I slammed the window shut after the tawny owl took flight. Clutching the long, rectangular package, I trudged across the living room and dropped heavily onto the couch. Too exhausted to even roll back my sopping sleeves, I wiped my hands on a cushion and began tearing at the package. A note fell into my lap and I picked it up, squinting to make sense of the curvy letters.

"_I was cleaning my office this morning and I found this. I thought it would make a nice gift of congratulations on becoming Prefect. –Albus Dumbledore"_

Ripping away the rest of the paper, I pulled out what appeared to be a framed picture of a young man. He had fallen asleep on his desk and was snoring softly. I could only make out his dark hair and fancy green robes. _Expect the Headmaster to send his students portraits of strange men, _I sighed, standing up on the couch. I tugged down the framed scenery of a sunny field hanging over it, tossing it to the floor, and replacing its vacated spot with the Headmaster's congratulatory present.

I wobbled back and forth unsteadily as I tried to discern whether or not the portrait was straight. Every time I decided I was satisfied, I would lean away to check and realize with great annoyance that it was slightly off. Cursing impatiently, I untangled my wand from the pocket of my wet robes and muttered a clever straightening spell. The frame gave a rigid twitch to the right and settled there. I wiped my brow in content and moved to step off the couch before I ruined the furniture, eyes still fixed on the portrait.

Suddenly, the picture swayed to the left. I tilted my head in confusion, wondering if I hadn't performed the spell correctly. But I quickly realized that must not have been it as the portrait swung violently to the right, then wavered dangerously as if it were about to fall. I looked down and noticed with dull alarm that the portrait wasn't the only thing that was moving. The couch began to quiver and shake too. Soon, the vase and its stand joined in, shaking and twitching. Before I had the time to process what was going on, the couch gave a particularly fierce jump and bucked me off unexpectedly.

As I fell crashing down on the coffee table, I came to know with dull understanding that it wasn't the furniture that was moving. My vision began to blur and go out of focus as my eyes slid shut, too tired to object to the pain from the table.

Then everything went black.

xxxx xxxx xxxx xxxx

_Heat. It seemed to be everywhere. It was enveloping me, wrapping around my body. I tried to complain but no sound came out. I rasped for breath but no air was traveling to my lungs. The unbearable heat was suffocating me. I reached out, searching for a way out, hoping that there was a way out of this tunnel of heat. But my hands found nothing except more scorching flames._

_Slowly, I cracked my eyes open and blotches of color began to focus into proper images. I squinted, trying to make out what all the red around me was. Was I bleeding? But the full moon had only been a week ago…_

_And then the fire came. It roared and spread, engulfing me. It burned me with its flames. It licked my skin with soft hisses. I screamed and jerked about, trying to move away from it, escape from it. But there was no way out, no opening at all. Every which way I looked, all I could see were walls of burning, blazing flames._

"_STOP!" I begged, trying to weep but no tears willing to come out. They were chased away by the fiery heat. My lips were dry and cracked, my throat parched. I tried to cry out for help but my weak croak was instantly drowned out by the blistering flames. "Somebody, please…it's too hot…it burns…"_

_A ripple of silver appeared for a moment in the wall of fire. I struggled to get closer to it, silently pleading for it to come back._

_It appeared again, this time more solid. Slowly, it wavered and expanded until it formed a figure._

"_It's okay, Remus." It whispered lovingly, reaching out to me with a silvery arm. "Take my hand."_

_I tried to raise myself but my arms felt as though they were made of lead. The figure came closer and I suddenly noticed that it was floating. Wherever it moved, a trail was cut through the raging fires._

"_It's okay, Remus, my darling," It whispered ever so gently, "don't be afraid. I'm here."_

_The silver figure settled down beside me and raised me in its arms._

"_Why is there so much heat? Where's this fire coming from?" I groaned. "Make it go away, please. Put it out. I can't bear it much longer…"_

"_Shhh, Remus. Everything will be okay. Don't give up now, just hold onto my hand."_

_I entwined my fingers with those of the silver being and pressed my cheek against its chest. The figure was cool. Its skin resembled water, smooth and silky, so utterly comforting._

"_Don't leave me," I muttered. "Promise you'll stay."_

"_I promise." It smiled, laying gentle kisses on my forehead, across my cheeks, along my neck. "As long as you want me."_

"_You're the only thing I want." I moaned, shifting closer to the figure and slipping my arms around it._

_The fire was beginning to die down. The flames sputtered helplessly and shriveled into nothingness._

"_What should I call you?" I asked softly._

_The silver figure only laughed._

"_But you know me." It whispered sweetly. "Now go to sleep."_

_I nodded, lying comfortably in the figure's lap. I watched in awe as the being arched its back and a pair of gigantic, sliver wings exploded from its back. They curved around me in a protective shield._

_I reached up, yearning to feel the feathered appendages but a silver hand gently caught mine in its own. It brought my hand to its lips and laid loving kisses on my fingertips._

"_I never knew you could be so adorable." It whispered in a husky voice._

_With what remaining strength I had left, I looked up and my eyes fell upon the face of an angel._

_An angel named Sirius Black._

xxxx xxxx xxxx xxxx

The swallows were chirping happily outside the window. A shaft of sunlight peeked through the drawn curtains and caressed my cheek.

I groaned, feeling a dull ache ripple through my body. Rolling over, I brushed up against something cool and hard. I cracked one eye open and saw deep brown. I rolled onto my back and cracked the other eye open. Slowly but steadily, the ceiling swam into view.

Groggily, I pushed myself upright. I looked down and saw a blanket covering my legs. I yanked it back to see that I was dressed in pajama bottoms. I looked to my left and saw half of my old coffee table. I turned slowly to my right and found the remnants of what had to be the other half of the wooden furniture. I gazed around me and took in the indescribable mess.

Blankets and clothes lay scattered across the floor. Next to a pair of slippers lay a bucket of water with a washcloth hanging from its side. The vase had fallen off its stand and shattered into a million pieces. On the couch lay bottles of what appeared to be medicine. Cough medicine, fever pills, and an assortment of colored capsules…a glass of spilled water sat wedged between two cushions.

I spluttered. What in the world had happened here? And…why was the coffee table broken?

"Don't look so surprised." A small voice drawled from somewhere above me. I looked up to see the little figure in my newly acquired portrait lean lazily over its desk. "You broke it."

I stared and scratched my head.

"You fell on it, remember?" The little person reminded me impatiently.

I continued to stare.

The figure sighed. "I hope the fever hasn't made you a half-wit."

I made a sound somewhere between a groan and a snort. What was that little thing talking about?

"The boy will be disappointed."

What boy?

"He stayed with you the whole time, mopping you up and feeding you medicine. I told him it wasn't going to save you but did he listen? No. I told him this wasn't even his business and what did he do? He told me to burn in hell and threatened to put holes through my picture. That rude little brat. And now he'll know I was right. You were hopeless from the start. But what I am telling you this for? The fever has obviously made you too stupid to understand what I'm saying."

"How long…have I been out?" I croaked.

"It's Friday afternoon." The figure scoffed, mildly taken aback that I hadn't lost my marbles.

_Two days._

I gasped. "I-I've got to get to school."

"Yes, get to school." The figure jeered. "And you're very welcome. If it weren't for me, the boy would have never been able to tell poison apart from cough medicine."

"Who's this _boy_ you keep talking about?" I queried, searching for some socks. "I live alone."

"The one that skulks around in the attic."

I dropped the dirty pants I was holding. "You don't mean-"

"Oh, yes." The figure drawled. "That little ghost. I think he said his name was Sirius Black."

xxxx xxxx xxxx xxxx

I stood leaning against the dungeon wall, waiting for the end of Potions. I didn't bring my book bag. I wasn't even wearing clean robes. I never thought that I, Remus Lupin, would one day be standing outside the classroom while class was being conducted, waiting to do what clearly had to be the stupidest thing in my life; the most reckless thing in my life.

_It's not like you're strong enough to attend class anyway, _the little nagging voice in the back of my head countered.

I checked my watch: four minutes. four more grueling minutes before I did the unthinkable, the one thing I promised myself I would never do.

_But you're doing what you believe to be right, _the voice said lightly.

It doesn't matter if _I _think it's right. All I'm doing is conjuring up a whole lot of trouble. There's no guarantee that he'll accept the facts. If worse comes to worst…

_You don't know that. Not yet, at least. You haven't tried so you can't draw any conclusions yet._

By the time I can, it will be far too late.

_It's too late to go back now._ _You've only got a minute left._

My last chance.

_Forty seconds._

I should have thought this out more.

_You think too much but you never do anything. Thirty seconds._

It's good to be careful.

_You're too careful. Twenty seconds._

You can never go wrong with being too careful.

_And you also never get anything done. Ten seconds._

I get things done _because _I'm careful.

_The brave may not live forever, but the cautious never live._ _Here he comes._

I turned to face the dungeon doors and felt my stomach do a nervous flop. The bell chimed loudly as the students poured from the room, chattering happily and eager to arrive at the Great Hall for dinner. I peeled my eyes for him until I saw a tousled shock of black hair come bobbing into view. _There._

I pushed against the crowd, fighting to get to him. I shoved past a girl and reached out to grab his arm.

"James." I called.

He turned to look at me with genuine surprise.

"You wanted to know what game I was playing." I said calmly.

His eyes narrowed with suspicion.

"Now's your change to find out. Follow me."

I turned and swiftly strode down the hallway, past the laughing students, dodging the worn-out professors, away from the Great Hall where the delicious aromas of fried chicken and potatoes. I finally came to a halt before the door of Professor McGonagall's office.

"In here." I muttered, pushing open the door and entering the small room.

James walked inside, curious, followed by a timid Peter.

I didn't wait to explain as I crossed the room to the fireplace and grabbed a handful of Floo Powder from the glass jar sitting on top of the mantle. I quickly threw the traveling dust into the fireplace, immediately forming a wall of human-sized green flames.

"Where are we going?" James demanded.

I turned to regard his confused but wary expression. "Home."

The three of us squeezed into the fireplace and linked arms, just to be safe. Careful not to inhale any ashes, I shouted the address of my lonely house as I had done every day after classes ended. But unlike all those other times, I was bringing company.

**A/N: **Hello, guys! Miss me much, I dare hope. I decided to update a day early (since a certain somebody objected to the six-day wait. It's okay, I'm delighted to see so much enthusiasm and I wanted to give you all a surprise.) I think my muses have returned to me (woohoo!) and I personally found this chapter somewhat more enjoyable than the last one. Send me your opinions in a lovely review or you may never see James and Peter meet Sirius. Just kidding. Don't take me seriously on that.

Toodles,

**Raenef**


	5. Reunion

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter is not mine. Never has Harry Potter been mine. Mine is not Harry Potter. Harry Potter has never been mine as it is not now. Thank you.

xxxx xxxx xxxx xxxx

Some speculate that when you have crossed the border between life and death, you will see a light that guides you to the afterlife. Others imagine that your soul is lifted from your body and the first thing you see is your own corpse. Well, to be plain about it, neither is true. I remember-I would know since I'm already dead.

_While I was still alive, I often wondered what made the Killing Curse such a feared spell. I'd seen it performed several times-it was quick, clean, and instant. No pain, no misery, no anxiety, no suffering, no nothing. Just a quick, clean, instant death. Yes, I always figured, it couldn't be that bad of a way to die if death was inevitable. In any case, it looked much better than its devil, younger brother-the Imperious Curse. I'd seen that performed a few times too. It was horrible. _

_The victims would wander about in a stiff, robotic manner-as if their bodies didn't really belong to them. And that was quite true-they had no control over anything once the spell had been cast. Their faces would remain expressionless, that is, if you didn't look into their eyes. Someone once told me that the eyes are the windows to the soul but they must have lied. If those eyes were such great windows that they could magnify what's inside, then why was I only able to see nothing? When I stared intently into those victims' eyes, all I saw were fear and pain fogging up the glass of the windows as they peered anxiously outside. But Mum enjoyed it. So did Dad. They all enjoyed it. I could feel their bodies wriggling with excitement underneath those identical black cloaks, basking in the fear reflected from the victims' eyes. And then the killing began._

_Mum liked to have them all line up in a row and hang themselves. She would snicker with satisfaction after the simultaneous squeak of five, seven, sometimes ten loops tightening around ten pale necks. "Aren't they beautiful, Sirius?" She would ask, gesturing at the lifeless bodies swinging gently with the wind._

_Dad was probably more sadistic. He liked to have the families kill each other. "It's far more amusing that way." He would tell me, his cold grey eyes glittering from the flash of muggle weapons. I couldn't really tell what was happening anyway. It was a mess of flailing human limbs, angry curses, and splurts of bright red painting the walls. But I had decided: Avada Kedavra had to be better. If it were me, I'd take the Killing Curse over the Imperious any day. There wasn't much debate between a quick, painless death as opposed to being tortured senseless and then forced to commit suicide in the most grotesque ways imaginable. Yes, Avada Kedavra was better. It wasn't as though I feared death anyway._

_But how wrong I had been. Mum and Dad hadn't known that I'd been alerted of the muggle hunt. Come to think of it, I couldn't really blame them for what happened. They hadn't known it was me under the guise of a Death Eater's mask and robes, fighting recklessly to try and save that little girl. Mum hadn't known it was me when she cast the Killing Curse._

_Avada Kedavra._

_The words rolled off her tongue like music and the world spun to a stop. I vaguely remember feeling my back hit the ground as I fell. Oh well, I had thought, at least I did my best. I was right about one thing though-it didn't hurt. And then I waited for death to take me. _

_But it never came._

_Of all the things I had been wrong about in my life, the Killing Curse was my biggest mistake. You see, it didn't hurt in the literal sense. Instead of causing the victim physical agony, it buried itself into your mind, sifting through your memories and pulling up all the bad ones-like taking files out of a cabinet. It especially had an appetite for regrets. Now, if I had been discussing this topic with James and Peter by the warm, crackling fire of the Gryffindor common room, I would have scoffed. "Regrets?" I might have told them, "Sirius Black never does anything he regrets."_

_Or so I thought I did, until the image of tussled, golden-brown hair flashed across my mind. Warm, brown eyes._

_The creator of the Killing Curse was quite clever, indeed. He knew fear of death was not shared amongst everyone and I would hazard a guess that Avada Kedavra was born solely for this purpose. It was a very manipulative curse, no doubt about that. It was nothing like the Imperious Curse. It was worse. _

_It would be accurate to say that the Imperious Curse was more suited to those who had a will to live and a healthy fear of death. Imperio, and you lost control of your bodily functions. Imperio, and you were at the full mercy of your caster. Imperio, you were doing things you never thought capable because this isn't you but goddamn it is! You're stabbing your wife to death, you're strangling your children, you're drowning yourself in the toilet bowl. This isn't you but it is. Who else could it be?_

_Avada Kedavra didn't work that way. Oh no, it didn't. It knows you're not afraid of death and it uses that against you._

_Avada Kedavra, and you felt yourself becomes weightless. You think-finally, death._

_Avada Kedavra, the memory of the last time you spoke to your friends waver before your mind. It would have been nice to at least be able to say good-bye. _

_Avada Kedavra, a whole stream of memories flow past. Flashing, muted images of mum sitting at the dining table crying into a wadded handkerchief, dad clutching her hand silently. Ah, you remember now. Hovering, toy broomsticks were all the rage then, but your parents wouldn't buy one for you. Something about "budgets," they'd said in worried tones. But you knew the truth-they were being selfish. Because of their selfishness, you would have to endure being the only eight-year-old without his very own hovering, toy broomstick. You'd yelled, you'd screamed, and when mother shouted back, you ran sobbing from the room. You didn't come home until the stars began popping into the sky, one by one. That had been the first time you'd run away. The first time you'd told your mum that you hated her, that you didn't want a selfish mum like her. But now you know, chuckling sadly and shaking your head, that you had been the selfish one. You always meant to apologize, but…_

_Avada Kedavra, the dam explodes and your deepest, darkest secrets flood your senses. Memories, yellowing and faded at the edges, fly across your mind like nightmares. Yes, you're remembering now, aren't you? The killing spree, the raid on your family, one by one……yes, grandma had always lived alone, hadn't she? You'd almost forgotten about her. Scrawny old woman, always quiet and slow…moved out of the tiny house when there was no more room left…yes, you'd almost forgotten her. You would have erased her existence forever from your memory except when _they_ came. They raided. They took. They murdered. When you hurried to the burning remains of the tiny, modest cottage and lifted her limp body from the rubble, you almost wished that they _had _murdered her. Left eye torn out of its socket. Missing front teeth. Pale, shining scalp where the white, wispy hair had been torn out in chunks. Spine crushed, probably by something heavy. A black, bleeding mass where the right arm should have been. And yet…and yet…through all those blue and purple bruises she smiled up at you, trying to tell you how happy she was to see family. And what had you done all this time? Sure, give her the best ward in St. Mungos and visit her once a year. You knew what she wanted most, but you couldn't face her…couldn't bring yourself to look at that face. And now that you're gone, she'll have no one. No money, no home…and no family. She's still waiting for you…forever…to the last breath……and what about the girl of your dreams? The sun-kissed promises to spend the rest of your lives together. The long nights under the willow trees, tangled together…those intimate little secrets. Now that you were gone, who would protect her? Who would care for her? But what you really want to know though you're frightened to think it…who would _take_ her? Oh, the painful squeeze of your heart. How it tries in vain to pump life back into you…for grandma…for your one and only…for all of them…… _

_So you weren't afraid of death, were you?_

_The Imperious Curse put you through so much physical pain that all you want to do is die and be rid of it. But the Killing Curse toyed with you like a cat with a mouse. It knew where your buttons were and it liked to push them. It taunted and teased you as if it were some sort of sick game. It was so intricately done that it made you _want_ to live. And when you wanted to live, you feared death._

_The deceased of the Killing Curse tell me that they saw so many things before they died. Each memory was imprinted, branded, burned into their skin._

_I only saw one thing._

_A flash of gold tresses, warm brown eyes, the sweetest smile I've ever known in my life. It was _him_-the boy that sat all the way at the very back of the classroom during every Potions lesson together. He was so quiet, so beautiful, so sweet. I wanted to reach out and touch him but I was afraid. He didn't look like he wanted me, and for that matter he didn't look like he wanted to be approached at all. He had such kind eyes but he had a certain ominous aura about him, like he was silently telling the world-_

"_Don't touch me."_

_And so I never did. It was the one thing I had craved to do all my life but was never courageous enough to do it. And now the Killing Curse was dangling that memory-that single regret-right under my nose._

'_You wanted him, didn't you?' It whispered gleefully in my ear. 'Oh, yes. You wanted him so badly but he never looked your way, never gave you any notice.'_

_I'd squirmed against its clutches like a dying rabbit in an owl's sharp talons._

'_You were such a coward. The Great Sirius Black, too fearful to even speak to his crush,' it laughed, high and cruel. 'And now you're dying. You're dead. You can never go back to him, not even to have one last peek. "I'll have tomorrow," hmmm? Yes, you always told yourself that every time he walked right past you. You're invisible to him.'_

"_SHUT UP!" I'd screamed, writhing in a pain I never thought I could experience._

'_Oh, but I could be wrong.' It continued, drawing out each word carefully. 'Perhaps if you were alive-if you lived through this-you would speak to him. Maybe even claim his as your own. You want that, don't you? Yes, you want that so much I can see it written all over your face in bold print. Tell me, don't you wish you were alive?'_

"_Fuck you." I ground out shakily between my teeth. But I knew the answer. Yes, yes I wanted to be fucking alive. I wanted to be alive so badly I couldn't even think straight. And it knew that too._

'_Yes, of course,' it whispered huskily in my ear, 'you want to fuck me, don't you?'_

_I felt a pair of smooth, warm thighs straddle my lap. My head snapped up and I stared into the loving face of none other than _him. _He looked tousled, as if he'd just tumbled out of bed with his shirt only half-buttoned._

"_Re-Remus?" I croaked._

_He nodded encouragingly and shifted closer to press our bodies together. I felt his soft lips trace my jaw line and trail kisses across my collarbone. I couldn't suppress a groan._

_He looked up at me and smirked. No wait, Remus Lupin never smirks._

"_You-!" I was furious. I tried to shove him off my lap but he dug his fingers into my shoulders._

"_You're not Remus." I growled._

'_Heavens, no.' The figure laughed-that same high, cruel laugh, 'But this is what you want, isn't it? It's as good as it'll ever get."_

_I could do nothing if not silently, grudgingly, despairingly agree. Yes, it was all over and this was as good as it would ever get. Whether I liked it or not, I could only accept all the pain and humiliation._

_The Killing Curse had done its charm._

_God, how I wanted to be alive._

xxxx xxxx xxxx xxxx

Sirius jolted awake, beads of silver sweat decorating his brow. For a moment, he couldn't tell what had woken him-the dream or the resounding crash from below.

This wasn't the first time he'd had that dream-no, hardly. But still, it had seemed so real this time, so much more corporeal than before. Or perhaps it was just his mind playing tricks on him; yes, that was probably it.

But his eyes still swept nervously over the premises. Nervousness gave way to a hint of dawning guilt when his eyes found the broken antiques lying helplessly in the corner of the small, musky attic. He winced. He had recognized that one and knew a good portion of its history. It was bloody valuable and would sell for a pretty sum on the black market, but he wasn't exactly considering the thing's future prospects when he sent it sailing across the room. Ah, well, no use crying over spilt milk, no?

Yawning hugely, Sirius lifted himself from the pile of rubbish he'd recently created and napped on, staring through his translucent lap at the jumble of broken bits that once resembled Remus's old family trinkets until he came along. He vaguely hoped that nothing in there was of great personal value. It certainly wouldn't help in an attempt at reconciliation with the owner. And speaking of said owner……

Sirius tilted his head and fixed his gaze on the steady beam of moonlight filtering into the room from a small dusty window. Through the round pane of dirty glass, he could just make out the dull shine of stars hanging in the sky. A veil of tiny droplets clinging along the glass told him that he'd slept through the rain. Sirius took a quick guess and decided on nine o'clock. That meant Remus would have been home hours ago, possibly still upset over their argument.

Sirius frowned. Now, that wouldn't do. He didn't like spending so much alone time with himself, as witty and bewitching as he knew himself to be. He was a tad reluctant to admit it, but he missed company-missed Remus, specifically. He'd rather not have to make the first move, but it sounded a hell of a lot better than skulking around the attic for another night. So it was decided.

Sirius let himself out of the tiny, dust-and-mold caked room through the wall (doors just didn't cut it anymore) and floated benignly down the hall, preparing a few conventional lines for conversation. But after popping into most of the first-floor rooms and finding them devoid of any signs of life, Sirius was beginning to wonder if he'd still need those conversational can-openers.

The house was dark and eerily quiet, as though no one had returned to tend to it. But the grandfather clock clearly read half-past nine and Sirius simply _knew_ that Remus would be home by now. He'd have to be; where else could he possibly go?

Gliding silently past the still kitchen, Sirius felt a sense of foreboding creep into his chest. He was about to seriously consider the option that Remus had been kidnapped when he floated into the living room and all thoughts of abduction were dispelled from his mind.

The dim light pouring in from the window cast long shadows across the floor and walls, illuminating jagged sections of furniture. And there, in the center of the room, lying cold and still, was the limp body of Remus Lupin.

For a long moment, Sirius lingered in the doorway, struggling to take in the picture.

"Remy?" He whispered softly, eyes wide, mouth hanging slightly open in shock. At the lack of an answer, he ventured in a few feet and repeated his query with more urgency.

"Remus?" He called loudly this time, worry clearly diluting his voice. "Remus, if you're messing around, it's not funny. I'm serious……"

A stray beam of moonlight glinted off a sharp edge of the broken coffee table laying scattered in pieces around Remus's motionless form. Sirius's breath hitched, feeling his chest constrict painfully. In a heartbeat, he was by Remus's side, focusing all his energy into moving the boy onto his back. His shaking, silvery hands slipped easily through Remus's shoulder and he cursed in frustration.

_Concentrate, Sirius, you've got to concentrate._

Inhaling deeply, even though it wasn't physically necessary, Sirius squared his jaw and cautiously reached out again, his brow furrowed. When his transparent fingers brushed solidly against the fabric of Remus's robe, he felt a small jolt not unlike an electric shock jump through his body. Careful not to loose concentration, Sirius painstakingly rolled the boy towards him onto his back.

It only took one look for Sirius to know that something was seriously wrong. Remus's cheeks were flushed a bright red though his clothes had clearly been soaked to the skin. Under the moonlight, he was a sickly shade of gray. Instinctively, he put out a hand to feel Remus's forehead but quickly jerked it back. _Of course, _he thought bitterly, _ghosts can't feel temperature._

Rising into the air, Sirius turned sharply and headed for the bathroom. Since his vapor-like form wouldn't allow him to move Remus very far, he'd have to fetch some hot water, towels, clean clothes, and turn the place upside-down for medication. Oh, and he'd have to cook too. Being tied to the house, he couldn't exactly bring in help from outside so he'd have to deal on his own. Well, that suited him just fine. He could handle a sick patient.

Sure, no sense of touch; big deal. Not like that was going to stop him from treating Remus.

xxxx xxxx xxxx xxxx

The emerald flames engulfing our bodies roared to life and I felt myself spinning as the image of Professor McGonagall's office whipped past my eyes. The rapidly twisting ground beneath my feet echoed the anxiety of my quickening heartbeat. This was it. This was the crucial moment. I had decided, though however irrationally, to expose the truth to James Potter and Peter Pettigrew. But how they would take it…would be beyond me.

As quickly as the spinning had begun, it lurched to an abrupt stop and unceremoniously spat us out of the grate.

I had long become accustomed to the sharp, jerking motions of Floo transportation, but my two guests, who I guessed to be less familiar with such means of travel, both lost their composures to the rough halt.

James, wobbling on his toes and flailing his free arm, managed to steady himself before he landed face-first on the ground. Peter, situated to my right, was not nearly as lucky; he overbalanced and tripped, foot hooking on my ankle. I felt my right leg buckle under the sudden strain of Peter's weight and with an alarmed squeak, I toppled over. Unfortunately for James, as our arms were firmly linked, my sudden collapse also yanked him off his feet. Amidst the scuffling noises, we tumbled out of the fireplace covered in more soot than we had bargained for and landed on my living room floor in a three-man tower.

Groaning, James rolled off my back and I followed suit, pulling myself away from a crumpled Peter. I winced as I straightened up, feeling the delicate bruise on my knee throb in sullen resentment.

"Well?" James queried, slightly disgruntled, cleaning soot off his glasses with a corner of his robes. "What did you want to show us?"

I waited until Peter, clutching the back of an armchair, managed to drag himself into a relatively upright position. I couldn't help noting that he had taken the brunt of the fall, as half his face and robes were hidden behind a thick layer of gray powder. James had accumulated less of the soot, but somehow managed to look exceedingly ridiculous. His tussled brown hair was streaked with gray, making him look as though he were in his mid-forties. A fat line of the dark substance was smeared across his left cheek and dotted the tip of his long nose. Another clump of it had formed an almost perfect half-moon around his left eye, highly resembling a fresh shiner. I couldn't resist a small snort even though my appearance was most likely equally outrageous or possibly worse.

At James Potter's quizzically raised eye-brow, I coughed and attempted my best shot at a straight face.

"I know you believe Sirius Black to be dead," I began, "and technically he is. However, there are some…exceptions-even to such absolute circumstances."

James Potter's already raised eyebrow rose another few centimeters. I felt a bubble of discomfort rise in my chest.

"It's a very complicated situation," I continued hesitantly. "Actually it isn't all that complicated; it's quite obvious really. It's just that the whole matter itself was brought about in a very complicated way."

James Potter's other eyebrow shot up to join its partner and assured me that I was making little to no sense.

"No!" I shouted, mentally berating myself. "That's not what I meant. What I'm trying to say is that-well, the truth can be very unbelievable at times but I would honestly appreciate it if you could, uh, accept it-as difficult as it may be because I understand that this rarely happens, yet-"

When James Potter's eyebrows continued to inch up his forehead with each word, in serious danger of merging with his hairline, I knew that I had lost all coherency.

"It's just-it's just that-" I flung my arms up in exasperation, "what I'm about to show you is entirely unexpected and you may find it highly shocking-"

But the rest of my sentence was drowned out as a loud thump resonated overhead and the silver form of one Sirius Black burst down through the ceiling, teeth clenched, jaw angled, and eyes flashing. His expression was a bizarre mix of anger, distress, and relief.

"_REMUS LUPIN!_" He roared, a spot of silver flying from his lips that I could only assume to be ghostly spit. "WHERE IN THE NAME OF MERLIN'S SAGGY LEFT BREAST DID YOU RUN OFF TO?"

I gave a frightened squeak and stiffened at his sudden outburst.

"I COME BACK TO CHECK ON YOU AND WHAT AM I GREETED WITH? BED EMPTY! CLOTHES GONE! WAND MISSING! YOU CAN'T EVEN BEGIN TO IMAGINE THE MORTIFICATION I FELT!" Every livid sentence was punctuated with a violent shake of Sirius' translucent body.

"Sirius-" I cut in, but was abruptly silenced.

"IS THIS HOW YOU THANK ME FOR SPENDING THREE SLEEPLESS NIGHTS NURSING YOU BACK TO HEALTH?" Sirius jabbed an accusing finger at my chest, eyes wild.

"ARE YOU EVEN AWARE THAT YOU MAY STILL BE RUNNING A LOW FEVER? YET YOU PRANCE OFF TO MERLIN KNOWS WHERE AND-AND-" Here, he finally noticed the addition to our company and paused as incredulous recognition spread across his features, thankfully wiping the outrage off his face.

"And bring back my two best mates…" He lowered his arms and turned to stare at James and Peter.

"I-I can't believe it-James! Pete!" Sirius' floated towards them, grinning madly in disbelief. "Why-? How-? What are you doing here?"

But James had taken a sharp step back and his hand shot into the folds of his robes, undoubtedly reaching for his wand.

"No!" I whispered.

"All of you stay where you are."

I froze at his icy command, feeling my heart sink. At Sirius's look of pained bafflement, James's flashing eyes, and Peter's loose jaw, I wanted to crawl into a hole and die. I should have known from the start that this would never work out. So much for letting things run their course.

xxxx xxxx xxxx xxxx

Red bottle, blue bottle, green bottle…

"Oh, what the bloody hell…"

Sirius was very displeased.

"Maybe the red one?"

He fingered the cap hesitantly.

"Oh, for the love of…"

Sirius grabbed at his hair and fought against the sudden urge to scream. He could not, for the love of his transparent arse, understand why Remus had to stash _Muggle medicine_ in his drawers. He glared frostily at the red bottle labeled "Tylenol." Its oddly shaped tablets convincingly resembled sweets. Maybe they were candy of some sort…

Sirius shook his head. No, that couldn't be. It _had _to be medicine. But what to do with it? Was it even edible? Should he dissolve it in water and feed it to Remus? That sounded like a proper plan. Maybe this-this _Tylenol_ thing was some sort of potion tablet the muggles invented. But how many tablets should he use? Ought it be a thick mixture? And what about the gooey, red syrup in the glass bottle? Perhaps that was meant for consumption. After all, it did resemble a potion more than any of the funny, chalk-textured bits. But it could be a rubbing ointment as well……

"Pills in the red bottle bring the fever down, pills in the blue bottle relieve pain, and the glass bottle of syrup soothes the throat. That should be all you need to know."

Sirius jumped at the sudden profusion of instructions from behind him and whirled around, alarmed. After wildly scanning the room, he noticed a new painting displayed on the wall above the couch and its tiny occupant.

"You should thank Merlin that I know these things. Well, what with being an inhabitant of Dumbledore's office, I doubt it'd be possible to not know. The man certainly keeps an odd variety of things…"

Sirius cautiously approached the small figure sitting leisurely within the frame but jumped back with a sharp intake of breath when he realized who the being was.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Sirius hissed, glaring down at the minute man.

"I could ask you the same." Phineas Nigellus Black retorted, returning the glare with a look of unabashed annoyance and skepticism.

xxxx xxxx xxxx xxxx

"Jamie?" Sirius came to a sudden stop. "What's wrong?"

James did not answer; he didn't need to. Though his face mirrored the shock and confusion that Sirius felt, there was no joy. His eyes held a grim determination and, if I wasn't mistaken, the smallest trace of pain. I knew that look; the look of someone too afraid to believe what he saw and thus buried himself in denial.

"James," I said slowly and carefully, as though he were a bomb and one wrong word would set him off. "Please, stay calm. Don't be alarmed by him."

James eyes flickered toward me for a moment and returned to Sirius. The room was suddenly heavy with a tense-almost explosive-silence. Nobody dared to move except Peter, who gave a weak gurgle and fell to the floor in a crumpled heap-unconscious. What felt like an eternity ticked by as the three of us eyed each other warily, waiting for something-anything.

Finally, James voice, low and guarded, broke the stifling impasse.

"Lupin. Explain. What the bloody hell is that?"

I struggled to keep my composure as I replied softly. "It's just what it appears to be. That's the ghost of Sirius Black you're looking at."

"How do I know that's not some cheap imitation of him that you conjured to toy with me?"

"State a motive, then." I said sharply.

James didn't budge.

"C'mon, Jamie," Sirius whispered urgently, "don't you remember me?"

James made no reply besides switching his gaze from Sirius to me, as though seeking some evidence to prove that what I'd said was the truth. But slowly, cautiously, he lowered his wand and his shoulders relaxed. His eyes, however, never moved from Sirius' face.

"Pull yourself together, James." I told him firmly, though I didn't quite feel as confident as I sounded. "This isn't the first time you've seen a ghost; there are plenty wandering about in Hogwarts. The only difference is that this one happens to be the spirit of someone you knew personally. But he's still the same-still the Sirius Black from his schooldays. Nothing has changed." I ventured a step forward and gently placed my hand on his arm in reassurance. "You know that."

James turned to look at me and after a few moments, his eyes softened and he dropped his gaze in a compliant, almost embarrassed, manner. I let out a breath that I didn't know I'd been holding.

"I suppose we should move Peter off the floor." He muttered, inspecting his companion.

"Er, right." In all the commotion, I had just as good as forgotten about Peter Pettigrew.

I grabbed his beefy arms and James grabbed his chubby legs. Heaving, we tossed him up and barely missed the couch. A long pause ensued, however, as James promptly fell into an armchair and busied himself by staring at his shoes. Sirius was concentrating furiously on picking invisible lint off his silvery robes. I grimaced. It was hard to believe that in the matter of a few minutes, the atmosphere had gone from tense to awkward.

I gave a small cough and the two heads jerked up simultaneously to regard me.

"It's been a while and I'm sure the two of you have loads to catch up on." I announced to the floor, cheeks flushed. "So I'll, er, just go and make some, you know, tea."

With that, I dodged out of my own living room in record time and ran down the hall to arrive at the kitchen. Slamming the door behind me, I slid to the floor, heart-pounding freely now that the worst was over. I spent a while staring at nothing in particular and, seeing as there really was no better way to pass my time, I got up shakily and reluctantly reached for the dusty old teapot in the cabinet.

xxxx xxxx xxxx xxxx

"You're not supposed to be here." Sirius growled.

"Neither are you. You're supposed to be dead." Phineas drawled.

"I _am_ dead."

"Probably not as dead as your family wants you to be." Phineas Nigellus muttered, eyeing Sirius's silver form.

Sirius ignored him and shut away the last of the pill bottles in the medicine box. After a fiery inner debate with himself, he had decided to take his great-great-grandfather's word for it after several threats to ensure that Phineas didn't have thoughts of poisoning Remus planted in his mind.

"So what's your excuse?" Phineas asked, leaning heavily against the back of his painted armchair.

"I asked you first."

Phineas rolled his eyes. "I'm here strictly under orders from Dumbledore; supposed to be in charge of surveillance over your friend on the floor there."

"Why?" Sirius glared suspiciously at the painting.

"You're a bit slow aren't you? The "why" is right under your nose." Phineas nodded towards Remus (now tightly wrapped in a thick blanket). "Dumbledore has a nasty tendency to mother his students, and Remus Lupin here fancies his house over the Hogwarts living quarters. Put two and two together and you get me-stuck here incognito to ensure the safety of a boy I could care less about. The fact that we're in the middle of a war and the special circumstances of this particular student didn't exactly support my protests."

"He doesn't need you here. I can take care of him just fine." Sirius crossed his arms in defense.

"Of course; because you certainly would not have used the throat-soothing salve for face masks." Phineas smirked.

Sirius glared daggers at the figure in the painting, willing it to magically combust under his heated gaze. Phineas's smirk only widened.

"I've spilt my guts; now it's your turn."

Sirius turned away. "It's none of your business."

"Maybe not." Phineas drawled lazily. "But I dare say the Ministry of Magic would be quite interested with your incorporeal presence."

Sirius whipped around, horrified. "You wouldn't-!"

"Ah!" Phineas's eyes glittered with dark delight. "I knew it. You're not registered, are you?"

Frustrated with himself for so easily giving away his circumstances, Sirius angrily paced the room, his feet barely touching the floor.

"There's no need. I won't be here for long."

Phineas sat up with interest.

"I'm staying here on borrowed time. It's going to run out eventually, but…" Sirius cast a gentle look at Remus's sleeping back.

Phineas gave a soft huff and reclined once more against the velvet back of his chair. "I now realize I have seriously overestimated your character. You know this is a harder way to go; only fools return in such a manner to try and scrape at a life they once had."

"I know." Sirius whispered, crouching down beside Remus and carefully brushing away a lock of hair from his peaceful face. "I know."

And suddenly, Sirius Black didn't seem so strong. His shoulders looked somehow smaller and frailer. His back somehow lacked its usual, proud arch. His eyes seemed to have lost their luster to the constant badgering of exhaustion. His frown seemed so much darker, so much bitterer.

"It's to make up for past mistakes."

xxxx xxxx xxxx xxxx

James Potter was clever, articulate, and even witty, if you will.

James Potter always had something smart to say, whether it be an ingenious joke or an acid remark.

James Potter was an expert conversationalist and he always _always_ had something to say.

But today, staring into what appeared to be a silver outline of his best mate who was most certainly made of flesh and blood the last time he checked, James Potter was speechless.

He watched the translucent body float towards the couch and pause, hovering over the arm of the furniture.

_Is that supposed to be sitting?_ James wondered to himself.

"Look, Jamsies," Sirius began, shifting over to bob up and down beside James' armchair. "I know this is…_weird_ if not completely insane but-_AARGH!"_

James had stuck a hand through where Sirius' liver should be.

"There's…nothing there…" He mused, wriggling his fingers a little and shivering at the cold sensation of touching a ghost. It felt a lot like plunging his arm into a bucket of ice-water.

"If you meant there's nothing _solid_ there, then _yes,_" Sirius snapped, rolling his eyes. "But I do still have my insides and I can certainly feel discomfort when people obnoxiously stick their overly-curious hands into me."

"No you don't," James countered, "Ghosts can't feel anything."

"Maybe not _physically_, but they do suffer on an emotional level!" Sirius huffed indignantly, crossing his arms. "Show a little respect, why don't you?"

James sniggered.

"But seriously, what are you doing here?"

James' snigger died abruptly. "Remus brought me here."

"Why would he do that? Not to demean his character, but it's not like him."

"Well," James shrugged, "Long story. I suppose you could say I caught on to him."

"About me?" Sirius was surprised.

"No, not quite. I didn't know anything about you being here until just now."

There was an awkward pause.

"So…how have you been doing?"

"Fairly good. Hogwart's still the same."

"Ah. And Peter? He's been well?"

"As fat and healthy as ever; you can see for yourself. That appetite of his just never stops expanding."

"You're still playing Quidditch?"

"You know me, mate-always. Gryffindor's in the lead this year, as usual. Maybe it's because of the war, but the other Houses are making extra efforts to beat Slytherin."

"Ah, are they now?"

There was another long pause.

"It's not the same anymore…Quidditch. It's not as fun."

A nervous laugh.

"Why not? You love Quidditch, Jamie. You practically live and breathe the game."

"It's different."

Frustration.

"It's…it's just not the same anymore. We still practice the same drills and the same routines but it's different now."

Silence.

"The wind doesn't feel as fresh anymore; the sky isn't as high. Sometimes it almost feels as though the air is weighing me down, as if the sky is about to press down and swallow me whole. I don't feel that exhilarating rush of adrenaline in our games anymore. Things have changed. Even though I'm still flying, higher and higher each day, away from my teammates, away from Hogwarts, away from the war, away from the world, I don't feel free anymore."

There was a pause.

"I'm sorry, Jamie. I'm so sorry."

And that was enough.

That tiny, whispered apology was enough.

That small gesture was enough to pry the indifferent mask from James and expose the tenderness underneath; the sorrow and pain he had fought so hard to put away on the back shelves of his mind. He had acted calm and collected, he really tried his best. But how was he supposed to silently bear the loss of Sirius all alone?

For possibly the first time since James had learned of Sirius' death, he let himself be consoled. He let his agony and his sorrow run rampant. If it was Sirius, showing vulnerability was okay. And so the tears came, flooding his eyes and rolling down his face, running down the bridge of his nose, sliding down to the corners of his lips, tracing his jaw line, crawling towards his chin…

How he had wished, in those dark long nights, that he could hear Sirius' light laughter. How he had wanted to believe that Sirius' bed, a mere ten feet away, held a lump of wrinkled sheets and was not-was never-cold, pristine, and empty. What he wouldn't have given to hear that familiar, even breathing, the soft snore of tranquility…

His chest heaved with each sob, rose and fell rapidly as the roaring emotions crashed in a chaotic symphony. He had wanted to speak to Sirius just once more, to tell him how sorry he was, how much he missed him, how his world had crumbled to pieces after the loss of his life-long friend. They were as close as brothers-no, closer than that. And now…now he was doing the impossible; he was looking at the silver embodiment of Sirius and all of a sudden he couldn't control himself; couldn't stem the flow of tears-tears of longing and tears of relief.

James Potter shook his head, shoulders shaking from a silent sob, face turned away to hide the wet paths of pearly tears.

"I'm the sorry one," he muttered into his sleeve. "I couldn't even attend your funeral. Too many wards around the place; couldn't get in. The cloak wasn't enough protection."

"Are you kidding?" Sirius gave a laugh of relief. "I'm _glad_ you didn't. That was the worst funeral in my life. We'll, I've only died once but you know what I mean. Mum crying and cursing, Dad shaking his head, all the other pure-bloods sniffing in indignation…"

Sirius made a noise of disgust. "Trust me, Jamie. I'm overflowing with joy that you didn't go. I don't think my family would have appreciated the gesture anyway. Plus, there's really no need for you to risk yourself over my dead body. Now that I think of it, why do people want to hold ceremonies to ogle at my corpse? Is it supposed to be pretty? I mean, not that I'm not handsome, you know."

James couldn't help snorting in laughter at that last remark.

"Keep doing that." Sirius grinned.

"Doing what?"

"Laughing."

There was a short pause before James flung a couch pillow at Sirius' smug face.

Peter, slung across the couch, finally stirred.

xxxx xxxx xxxx xxxx

"No…too hot…it burns…make it go away…stop…stop it…"

"What's wrong with him?" Sirius cried in dismay, trying in vain to hold down Remus's flailing arms.

"His fever is probably peaking." Phineas replied, staring out through his painting. His dark eyes betrayed a sliver of worry. Remus Lupin was, after all, his charge.

"Wasn't the muggle medicine supposed to reduce the fever?" Sirius shouted furiously as he grabbed for the towel soaked in the bucket of cold water.

Remus twisted fiercely and kicked off his blankets as if to prove Sirius's point. His face was flushed a deep red and his forehead burned with warm sweat. He writhed in pain, as though he were lying in a bed of fire. The sheets below him were damp as were the golden-brown locks of his hair.

"Watch him." Phineas ordered. "I'm going to see if I can't find Dumbledore. This might be more serious than what I first guessed-"

"GO!" Sirius shouted, cutting him off. "I'll take care of things here! Just bring some bloody help back!"

Phineas disappeared behind his frame with a swish of his cloak.

"Hot…too hot…" Remus moaned, fumbling with the wet towel laid gingerly across his forehead, tearing it away.

"No! Stop that!" Sirius commanded, catching Remus's hand in his own. To his immense surprise, Remus ceased his struggle and gave a soft whimper of relief.

"Cold…" He whispered, attempting to pull Sirius's hand down to his cheek but unsuccessfully slipping his hand through the silver vapor. A look of panic began forming itself across his features at the loss of the cool sensation.

By now, Sirius had caught on. He lowered himself carefully over Remus's body and remained levitated there in deliberation.

"It's okay, Remus. I'm here, I won't leave you. Everything will be okay, I promise." He murmured, slipping his hands as best he could into Remus's.

"Closer…" Remus moaned, arching his back.

Sirius hesitated for a moment before pressing himself gently against Remus's torso.

"That close enough for you?" Sirius whispered in his ear.

Remus hissed in reply and relaxed into the sheets. "It burns…"

"Shhh, everything will be okay. Don't give up now, just hold on to my hand." Sirius tightened his grip on Remus's fingers. "Bear it a little longer for me, won't you?"

"Don't leave…promise you'll stay…"

The soft, urgent plea brought a smile to Sirius's lips.

"I promise." He whispered back. "As long as you want me."

"You're all I want…"

With that, Remus finally seemed content and nestled his head into the pillow. His body became lax and he slowly drifted into heavy slumber.

"Angel…" He mumbled softly into the sheets.

Sirius gave a small, musical chuckle. "You're the angel, love."

He bent down and brushed his lips lightly across the rosy mouth of the sleeping boy, imagining that he could feel the softness of those twin petals and taste the sweet ambrosia within……

A slightly out of breath Phineas Nigellus returned empty-handed to find Sirius gazing out through the window at the silver moon and Remus peacefully asleep in his make-shift bed. He gave a sigh of relief. The worst was over. He hadn't been able to locate Dumbledore but that no longer seemed of importance now. Sirius, on the other hand though, looked a bit peculiar. Phineas couldn't decide if something about him had changed in the short moments after his departure. He appeared…happier. Relieved. His eyes held a dreamy quality and the corners of his lips were turned up in what closely resembled a guilty smile. But…

No. Phineas Nigellus shook his head. It must be the river of moonlight that Sirius was bathed in playing tricks on his mind.

xxxx xxxx xxxx xxxx

I turned the tiny teacup nervously in my hands. It used to belong to mum, when she still collected them. The yellow, flowery patterns printed along the rim had faded and chipped. Tracing the dirty remains, I strained my ears for a sound-any sound.

Half an hour had passed in silence and the teapot had already been refilled twice. My stomach was bulging with sweet, warming liquid. And yet, nothing had happened. No holes being blasted in the walls, no shouting; nothing at all. The silence was almost frightening.

I sloshed the dregs around and watched as they spun in a frenzied dance. My heart-rate had gone back to normal, but I couldn't help feeling anxious and jittery. Part of me was sorely tempted to check on the pair, but another part-a considerably more logical part-was telling me that it wasn't really my business. And what if I walked in at an awkward moment? What was I going to tell them? Oh, lookie here, I brought you some tea?

The dregs gave one last tired whirl and retired to the bottom of the porcelain cup. I sighed to myself. I couldn't decide what to think. If James couldn't accept Sirius (and here I gulped nervously), then I'd have to prepare for the worst. Force him out of the house and have him swear that he'd never tell a soul of what he encountered today. Maybe even wipe his memory if necessary. But……

But that's not a very nice thing to do, is it? Sirius would be furious and moreover, hurt. All worries set aside, I doubt even I could carry out such a ludicrous emergency plan and still be able to sleep comfortably at night. If the two could come to an understanding though……

Then things would be very different. For one, Sirius might be further provoked to leave the house in _my _body. Otherwise, James and Peter might visit frequently…

After a quick and painless debate, I promptly decided that the presence of James and Peter would be endurable, if not outright pleasant. Of course, I'd have to take twice the precautions. But regardless, that was all hypothetical.

I absently retrieved the teapot and filled my cup to the brim. It was most definitely hypothetical. I was afraid to think of all the possibilities, good and bad. Frankly, I had no idea _what _to think. After all, what was I supposed to make of complete silence? (I distractedly brought the teacup to my lips.) Something should have happened by now. If only one of the two would just-

The kitchen door burst open, hinges squealing in protest, to reveal the identical beaming faces of Sirius and James.

I felt, with no small amount of alarm, the scalding liquid travel down the wrong pipe.

"Remus!" Sirius chimed, advancing into the room.

I regurgitated the tea with as much grace as could be given.

"Y-Yes?" I coughed.

"Would you mind if James and Pete stayed for dinner tonight?" Sirius begged, bobbing up and down erratically. James, just a step behind him, nodded fervently and threw me a set of puppy eyes.

"Well, I suppose…" I began.

"Great!" Sirius burst out, turning joyfully to James, who winked and disappeared from the doorway.

"Wait!" I called. "It will take time to make dinner-"

"Not if James nicks the food from the Hogwart's kitchen!" Sirius beamed.

"But that's-"

"Toodles!" Sirius zipped out of the room, no doubt to find Peter.

I returned to my seat with a deep sigh, smiling into the teacup and watching my distorted reflection smile back. I would hazard a guess that James and Sirius were well on the way to rekindling their tender friendship.

xxxx xxxx xxxx xxxx

The evening passed in a blur of laughter and excitement that Remus had never seen occur in this household. James had returned with armloads of dishes along with treats that the house elves insisted on his accepting. The food was, of course, delicious, but Remus took the most joy out of watching the trio of friends banter and joke, constantly dragging himself into the midst as well. He was at first shy, but quickly felt at home with the three other boys. They were simply too warm and amiable to turn away from and with each emptied bottle of Butterbeer, the room was beginning to glow a bright gold.

Later, as the four of them sat lounging in the squashy armchairs and couches in the living room, staring at a bright, beautiful fire, Remus vaguely wondered if the room was swimming in a golden sea…

At eleven, James and Sirius cracked their last jokes as he and Peter prepared to depart for the night. James was stumbling a little as he crossed into the green flames. Peter missed the fireplace altogether, causing an uproar of laughter from his amused friends. Clutching one of Peter's porky arms with one hand and clutching his side with the other, James bid Sirius and Remus a pleasant night and was whisked away by the emerald fire.

For a while, the remaining pair lingered in the living room, soaking up the silence and the other's company. Finally, Sirius's voice broke through the sleepy calm.

"Thanks for everything, Remy." He murmured.

Remus shook his head slowly. "I should be thanking _you_ for taking care of me. That was very sweet of you."

Sirius chuckled. "And so are you." He thought about for a moment and asked a nagging question at the back of his mind.

"Remus?"

"Mmm?"

"Have you…" He sat up and gazed at Remus's body, curled gracefully on the couch. "Have you ever kissed anyone?"

Remus was sober enough to look slightly confused. "What? No." He scratched his head and stared into space for a short second.

"At least I can't recall ever kissing anyone…" He hiccupped. "Why?"

"Nothing." Sirius grinned as he rolled over onto his back on his side of the couch, staring up at the ceiling with a certain guilty satisfaction. But the white wallpaper was soon blotted out by Remus's curious face.

"Tell me." He demanded in a childlike fashion, leaning over Sirius's head. "I'll bet you're hiding something. I want to know what it is."

"Are you sure?" Sirius cautioned gleefully. "You might be disappointed."

Remus expressed his disagreement in a frown. "I want to know."

The only light in the room shone from the crackling fire in the grate, dimly illuminating the area. The jumping flames cast dancing shadows across Remus's lovely face, just hovering inches over Sirius's own. There was a certain romantic aura to the way Remus's eyes were half-lidded with fatigue and his lips parted in some sort of expectation. His golden, tussled locks of hair were set aflame by the fire, shimmering and sparkling like gems. It was such a perfect moment…

"How about I show you?" Sirius whispered, lifting a hand to gently caress the other boy's cheek.

Remus made no reply besides lowering his head inch by inch, closer and closer until their lips were a mere hairsbreadth away…

"Is this what happiness feels like?" Remus mused aloud, his honey-colored orbs staring intensely into Sirius's dark, stormy ones.

"I guess we'll find out." Sirius whispered huskily in reply.

As the infinitesimal gap between their lips was on the verge of being closed forever, the grandfather clock in the hallway chimed twelve times. Midnight.

Remus suddenly sat up, dazed.

"What's wrong?" Sirius asked, moving to get up as well.

"Oh, it's nothing. The grandfather clock merely gave me a bit of a shock." Remus grinned sheepishly.

Yawning hugely, the tousled boy rolled off the couch and began making his way toward the staircase. No doubt to wash up and get to bed.

"I'm going to call it a night." Remus called behind him as he trudged away. "You ought to get some rest as well."

Sirius gave an incoherent mumble.

Remus stopped and looked back, a tender expression adorned on his face. "Good night."

"Sweet dreams." Sirius nodded.

Two simultaneous "thanks" were blurted out.

They both laughed.

"I'll see you tomorrow morning, love." Sirius chortled at Remus's retreating back.

That night, Remus slept like a baby. He was perfectly content. He did, however, wake up in the middle of the night to grab a glass of water. On his way past the living room he paused, wondering if he had heard something but decided it was just the sounds of night. And thus, he did not know that downstairs, Sirius and the little figure in his newly acquired portrait were coming to a compromise.

Sirius turned back to face Phineas once Remus had proceeded up the stairs.

"Then we're agreed: as long as I don't expose your true intentions and purpose for being here, you won't tell him about my circumstances."

Phineas Nigellus gave a stiff, reluctant nod. "How long will you be around?"

"I honestly don't know." Sirius muttered. "A month, two months…give or take."

Phineas merely acknowledged his answer with a cluck of his tongue. "All this trouble just for some boy."

"Not just some boy." Sirius retorted, gazing up the staircase with a soft smile. "He's special."

**A/N:** Finally. Done. First off, a million apologies to you lovely readers who have kept with this ficlet for so long. I am terribly horribly sorry for the long wait. Everything's been super hectic, what with college applications around the corner. But anyhow, thanks for being so supportive and a special thanks to Miss Hrmi'nebook for constantly prodding me in the back to keep on working. That was incredibly helpful and encouraging. In the future, if any of you feel that my updates are slowing down to a dead halt, feel free to send angry mail. It's my best motivator. That aside, I feel that I do have a legible excuse for part of the delay this time. I had actually rewritten this chapter three times; this being the final draft. I was extremely picky about pretty much everything so I basically refused to post this chapter until I felt satisfied with myself. That pretty much resulted in my smashing all three versions together and tweaking both the timeline and the perspectives. I was really troubled about how best to allow every character to express himself. Hopefully, my final work has accomplished that. I'm glad to see you all again and I've missed you all dearly! I hope none of you are very sore with me for dropping off the face of the planet for all this time. I plead forgiveness and reviews. Thanks for reading and until next time!

**Toodles,**

**Raenef**


	6. Schemes and Secrets

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter is not mine. Never has Harry Potter been mine. Mine is not Harry Potter. Harry Potter has never been mine as it is not now. Thank you.

xxxx xxxx xxxx xxxx

Lucius Malfoy had never been quite so perplexed in his seventeen years of awe-inspiring life. It had come to his attention that the three dunderheads of Gryffindor House had, for the past three Potions lessons of the week, spent the prolonged periods of time in the dungeons with their heads together. Such behavior was not new in the case of the Potter boy and his overweight lackey. But Remus Lupin…

Lucius quelled a shudder and felt the side of his pale cheek with his fingertips.

Remus Lupin had no reason to be consorting with them.

Lucius could remember it as if it were yesterday. Filch had been rudely rubbing salt into his wounds as he trudged down the empty halls of Hogwarts, clutching a bucket of filthy rags unfit to be handled by a Malfoy. His face had been screwed into an expression of utter contempt directed at the back of Filch's head when he had stepped through the doors of the trophy room in time to see James Potter cornering Remus Lupin against one of the numerous glass cabinets. He hadn't known what they were disputing over and at the time he had been too occupied with his miserable state to care. He wouldn't have minded much if Potter (as much as he disliked the meddling fool as well) had proceeded to manually detach Lupin's head from his torso. Lupin deserved it, after the humiliation he had put Lucius through. In fact, he had been looking forward to seeing James Potter give Remus Lupin a sample of hell for the next couple of days at least, but the coward had vanished. And when he returned the following week, he and Potter were arm-in-arm as if they'd been best mates since first year.

The corner of Lucius's mouth twitched downward in an ugly grimace.

Everything about the picture was wrong.

Seated beside him, Bellatrix Lestrange mimicked Lucius's look of distaste as she sifted through their basket of dried leeches, separating the ones that were intact and tossing them into their smoking cauldron. When she turned her gaze on Lucius and followed his seething glare, the look of disgust deepened.

"Lucius…" She murmured, dark eyes flickering from Lupin's shaggy head back to Malfoy's face, shooting him a meaningful look.

Lucius only met her eyes for a moment and gave her a small, sharp nod.

Bellatrix, pushing her curtain of sleek, black hair behind one ear, returned the gesture.

Rookwood caught the sly look passing between the two and paused in his chopping of daisy roots to raise a befuddled eyebrow.

"Are the roots finished?" Lucius asked pointedly, staring down his long nose at the scrawny, slightly greasy boy.

"A-Almost." Rookwood dropped his head like an obedient dog and resumed his task, quickening the pace of his knife.

"Good. Those roots won't chop themselves, Augustus." Lucius drawled in an impeccable, Malfoy manner. "It won't do for you to be putting your nose where it doesn't belong."

Rookwood fervently bobbed his head in agreement. On Lucius's right, Bellatrix lost no haste in preparing the required rat spleen for their Age-reversing potion.

Lucius leaned lazily back into his chair as if it were a throne, the previous grimace now giving way to a thin smirk.

It didn't matter what humbling methods Lupin had used to worm his way into James Potter's good books and turn the tides in his favor. _That _would be of little consequence once Lucius acquired a handle on…let's just simply say, a weak spot. Whatever it was, Lucius's gut told him that Lupin's exterior was hiding a plethora of secrets like a set of heavy, iron doors. All he needed to do was find a way to sneak inside, and the goods would be his to exploit.

True to the Malfoy motto: _nemo me impune lacessit._

No one got away with rubbing a Malfoy's fur the wrong way, regardless of what the costs may turn out to be.

xxxx xxx xxxx xxxx

Across the dungeon, a silent Severus Snape was peering at the Malfoy heir over his steaming concoction. His forever stony face darkened considerably at the glint in the blonde's eyes.

Malfoy was plotting something. He could read that look as clearly as the instructions being scrawled out in loopy letters across the board by a stick of bewitched chalk.

Snape scowled at the gaudy words in shimmering pink. He had to admit to himself that they were less desirable than Lucius Malfoy's scheming looks that promised a world of pain-for Remus Lupin.

Snape threw a glance at the Gryffindor trio halfway across the dungeon and scowled some more at Potter's unbearably snotty face. Whatever Malfoy was planning, he hoped that Potter would get caught in the crossfire. He stirred the thick green, gluey substance in his cauldron, relishing the thought.

Potter's well-being was as valuable to him as Slughorn's secret stash of _Witches Gone Wild _magazines. (He shuddered at the particular incident and made another mental note to never go looking in the professor's Forbidden Ingredients Cabinet. As Snape had found out the hard way, it was forbidden for more than one reason.)

Though his distaste for Potter ran about a mile wide, his sentiments for Lupin were slightly less…intense. One could even say it almost bordered on a grudging respect for the boy's commendable intelligence.

He couldn't deny that Lupin probably deserved whatever Malfoy was going to dish out (after all, offending the frisky blonde was about as safe as poking a hungry dragon in the gut with a chunk of bloody veal on a stick), but he was endlessly perplexed by _why _Lupin had gone and voluntarily shortened his own life-span for the sake of a brainless, Hufflepuff git. He was hardly ever that stupid. If anything, he strongly shared Snape's interest in lurking around corners and blending in with the Hogwarts' decorative scheme.

But look at him _now:_ a noble, dashing Gryffindor scampering around with the others of his deplorable kind, drawing attention to himself like a stupid, albino peacock clucking its way through the heart of the Forbidden Forest.

Snape sneered disdainfully. The fool probably didn't even know that he'd become easy prey to the Malfoy heir. Some commendable intelligence he possessed, indeed.

Truth be told, Lupin's well-being was of miniscule concern to him as well. At best, he would say it was a shame that someone with a mind so gifted would soon fall under possibly the most terrifying experience of his life. Before he allowed Malfoy to have his way with the boy though, Snape would make sure that his curiosity was sated. He was plagued by questions such as _why did that despicable Potter's take on Lupin's handiwork suddenly go from thunder to sunshine? _And what exactly had it taken to not only soothe Potter's vengeful mentality but also bring him to stand on Lupin's side? Why did Lupin even want to be in the company of those idiots?

There were too many holes to the course of events, and Snape wasn't about to let them stay that way.

xxxx xxxx xxxx xxxx

James nudged Remus in the ribs with the end of their potions ladle. "Snape's giving you the eye again."

"What?" Remus started from checking off the ingredients they had just added to their potion from a piece of parchment.

"Snivellus has been giving you an awful lot of attention lately." James waggled his eyebrows suggestively, lips pulling up in an equally suggestive, lopsided grin.

"Oh, can it, James." Remus promptly picked up where he left off, turning his own attention back to the parchment. "He's only looking this way because you won't stop goading him with your eyebrows. Move them that way any more and they'll fall off your face."

"_No_," James replied slowly, staring unabashedly at his Slytherin classmate. "He looks like he wants to singe them off."

"You say that like it's a good thing." Peter said skeptically the same time Remus rolled his eyes and muttered dully, "You surprise me, James."

James must have either not heard Remus's comment or chose to ignore it as he beamed winningly in Snape's direction. "Any pain of Snape's is my pleasure."

Remus frowned in disapproval. "If I were him, I'd give you a taste of my magic."

"And I'll show him how to stick his magic up his-"

"James!" Remus jumped and jabbed him with his quill in protest.

"We're in _class_ and we are not _five-years-old._" He hissed.

James only playfully batted away the offending feather and pulled another face at the Slytherin. Remus darted a glance at Snape and thought he saw the boy's knuckles go white from gripping his ladle. He feared that it may soon snap clean in half if James didn't shut his mouth.

"Why do you even do this?" Remus asked, exasperated, trying to focus on his work as he tossed a wad of gillyweed into their cauldron. "I mean, what's the point in tormenting him?"

"Because his reactions are first-class entertainment in this little hellhole." James said. He sounded as though he were commenting on the weather or Slughorn's hideous, puke-shade robes.

Remus accidentally punctured a hole in his parchment next to "1/2 pound gillyweed" with his quill.

He turned to round on James when a flurry of deep green robes came into view.

"Remus, is it?" A sweet, female voice questioned uncertainly.

Remus's head snapped up and he found himself staring into the face of a sixth-year girl with a bright-red mane and the most gorgeous green eyes he'd ever seen.

She smiled at him and tentatively extended one slender hand. "I'm Lily Evans. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Remus could only nod, flabbergasted, and absently took her hand in his briefly.

James, at the sound of Lily's voice, immediately swung around and abandoned Snape in her favor.

"May I say, Miss Evans, it's always a pleasure to be seeing _you_." James leaned across the table and attacked her with his Snape eyebrow-waggle.

"You may not." Lily scowled, not even bothering to look at James. She recomposed herself and smiled once more at Remus, clearing her throat.

"I was informed yesterday that you had taken up the post as prefect in Gregory Ackart's absence." She paused, looking down at her feet rather shyly in an oddly endearing manner. "Well, as a fellow prefect, I was asked to show you to your duties and I'm free this evening."

James stared at her with his chin nearly scraping the table and his eyebrows nearly soaring off into orbit. He fixed Remus with such a wounded glare that to an impartial observer, Lily may as well have asked Remus to elope with her and Remus had happily agreed to steal away the love of James Potter's life.

"I-I have time." Remus stammered, trying very hard to ignore his friend's piercing stare and his shaking hands.

"Okay, then. I'll meet you after dinner at seven outside Gryffindor Tower." Lily was now smiling in relief, and gave him a small wave before spinning around and returning to her seat two tables away. The three other girls sharing a cauldron with her were making a gaggle over James, but he was too busy binding Remus in a headlock to notice.

"What was that? _What was that?!" _James practically screamed in mutiny. A couple of heads turned to regard him with surprise.

"Wh-Whu-" Remus was having trouble breathing and suspected that he was slowly turning blue.

"She basically waltzed up here and asked you out!" James howled. "I've been lavishing her with my manly charms for _ages_ and she doesn't even look in my direction twice! AAAAAAAAUUUGH!"

Across the dungeon, Slughorn, who had been helping a student blend her potion to the right color, turned his rotund body abruptly to locate the source of the rabid werewolf-like yowl. It wasn't very hard to do.

"How could you do this to me, Remus? I thought we were friends!"

Half out of his chair, Peter made a frantic noise much like that of a monkey reacting to a particularly irritating flea-bite and yanked roughly at the back of James's robes.

"_What,_ may I ask, is the problem here, boys?" Slughorn demanded as he sidled rapidly between the tables, excessive middle grating against the wooden structures.

"Nothing!" Peter squealed nervously, throwing his whole weight backwards to detach James from a gasping Remus. It worked and didn't work as James crashed to the floor, nearly upsetting their cauldron, with one hand still clutching Remus's robe as if it were the last bottle of Butterbeer within Wizarding London.

"S-Sorry, professor!" Remus wheezed, massaging his neck, "James sniffed some of the powdered beetle shells and as the properties dictate: misuse through inhalation will cause the quickening of blood flow and therefore a drastic heightening of energy."

Slughorn eyed him skeptically, though the distinct wobble of his walrus-moustache told Remus that he approved of Remus's extensive knowledge in beetle shell properties.

"And what exactly was Mr. Potter trying to achieve with the powder?"

"He mistook it for crushed salamander tails." Remus replied rapidly, kicking James under the table as he spluttered in protest, "They both have highly similar appearances and can easily be mistaken for each other. I-I'm sorry sir, I should've been more careful. I promise he won't get in the Potions ingredients kit again."

Slughorn nodded his complete approval this time. "I trust you will, Remus. Will Mr. Potter be needing a trip to the infirmary-"

"YES," Remus nearly shouted as he delivered another kick to James's ribs, and felt something strangely like a bite on his calf. He winced. "Peter will take him."

Peter quickly complied and hauled a disheveled James to his feet, steering him towards the door of the dungeon amidst the curious looks of the other pupils. James rubbed his ribs sullenly and looked quite like a child who'd had his candy confiscated by a parent.

Luckily for them all, the grueling Advanced Potions lesson had come to an end and Professor Slughorn was going about dismissing the class. "As we are not yet finished with the Age-reversal Potion and it needs some time to simmer thoroughly over a small fire, leave your cauldrons in place and only clean up your materials!"

Remus was more than happy to apply himself under the jets of cold water shooting from the Gargoyle's mouth, vaguely trying to picture the struggle James must be putting up at this moment, and snickered.

xxxx xxxx xxxx xxxx

James had bounced out of bed against Madame Pomfrey's warnings when Remus came around to see him, but had quickly thrown himself back down on the sheets, forcing on a half-hearted glower.

Remus grinned in relief. He'd had doubts that James was truly angry with him for what happened in Potions. He should've known better.

"Enjoying your stay, I presume?" Remus offered up his sympathy in the form of a proffered Chocolate Frog. James pretended to sniff disdainfully at it before snatching it away, lest Remus change his mind.

"Mnnyour fault." He accused around a mouthful, savoring the frog's severed head.

Remus looked at him in mock surprise, "Why, did you _want_ me to let the class know just how much you lust after Miss Lily Evans?"

"IGH DO GNOT!" James countered viciously. Swallowing, he replied, "I _love_ her. _Loved_ her since I first laid eyes on her, which was during first year, which was before you ever came into the picture."

Laughing, Remus shook his head at James's sense of chronology and collected his books from the bedside table. "You make it sound like I'm dating her. She's just showing me around to the prefect duties."

"Close enough." James said sourly as he clambered out of the hospital bed and swung his book bag over his shoulder, popping the rest of the frog into his mouth.

The two strolled down to dinner in the Great Hall, meeting Peter halfway from Herbology. When they approached the hustling, bustling dining room (with James continuing his complaints), Remus suddenly stopped and gagged.

"You'd think she-Remus?" James stopped in mid-complaint to stare at him. Peter, who only had a one track mind to reach the roast lamb, was entirely oblivious to all that may be happening outside his mind-frame. He pawed desperately at the air when James reached out an arm and snatched the back of his collar.

"Remus, you okay?"

"Ye-_no._" Remus rubbed his hand across his face. "I just-I've never intentionally walked into a compact place teeming with so many people. It's nerve-wracking."

There was a short pause before Remus heard James's guffaw and then felt James's lanky arm throw itself around his shoulders in a reassuring fashion.

"You're going to like it." James promised, warm, brown eyes shining as he towed Remus towards the Gryffindor table-Peter didn't need any help.

The overwhelming smell of food hit Remus in the face once he crossed the threshold. His nerves were soothed somewhat when the second-year Hufflepuff that he-er, Sirius-had rescued caught his eye and waved cheerfully. Remus managed a small smile and wiggled his fingers in response.

Four pairs of eyes from the Slytherin table shot in his direction, the last pair-Augutus's-being a bit late…again. Lucius and Bellatrix had looked up simultaneously and their faces had soured in unison. Severus was grim. But he was always grim.

To all this Remus remained unaware as he was shoved into a seat and handed a plate. James lost no time in adding dollops of every dish to Remus's porcelain, while Peter lost no time in doing the same for himself.

Dinner grew to a joyfully chaotic level as James loudly promoted every tray of biscuits and every bowl of gravy to Remus, who thought he might burst at the seams from sampling them all. He was more than a little crestfallen when he checked his watch and realized he only had five minutes to seven.

Reluctantly, Remus dragged himself away from the bubbling table-and James nonstop telemarketer impression, this time for a basket of dinner rolls-and dashed towards Gryffindor Tower. Just as he'd entered, four pairs of eyes followed him out again.

Halfway up the winding stairs, Remus had to stop and force James back down to the Great Hall, who was loudly proclaiming his innocence.

xxxx xxxx xxxx xxxx

"As Prefects, we'll need to regulate what happens in our House dormitories and occasionally keep an eye out for students who have a habit of wandering the castle after dark."

Remus chuckled as he followed Lily down a corridor. "James Potter, for instance?"

Lily jumped and cast her eyes about, as if she thought the tousled Quidditch player was peering at them around a corner.

Remus turned his laugh into a cough. "Do you not like him?"

"What? Well, that's not really it." Lily seemed a bit distracted. "He just can't tell what's good for him and what's not."

"He can be quite pigheaded." Remus agreed. Lily turned to stare at him.

"Er, is there something on my face?" Remus rubbed his face uncertainly. Lily shook her head fervently and dropped her eyes.

"I thought you'd-you're his friend after all-"

"You thought I'd defend him with unmatched vigor?" He smiled understandingly.

Lily opened and closed her mouth, then nodded. "I'm sorry." She replied sincerely.

Remus shook his head 'no'.

They proceeded down the corridor for a while in silence before Lily spoke up again.

"Remus? If you don't mind me asking, how did you and James-get to know each other?"

"It's a long story." _Quite a disastrous one_, Remus added silently. "I sort of-met him through a friend."

It was true. If it weren't for Sirius, he probably wouldn't be standing here now, telling Lily about this.

"You don't seem much like the type who'd get along with someone like him." Lily grinned apologetically. Her green eyes sparkled under the dimly lit torches flanking the corridor and created the illusion of James's eye-twinkle when he was up to something.

Remus couldn't help but agree inwardly. "James is…charismatic." He waved an arm around, trying to come up with the right word.

"He gives you a feeling of certainty and dependability, despite all the trouble he bowls headlong into." Remus mused, more to himself than in an explanation. "I suppose it's his energy that drew me in, and that pigheadedness of his. Once he has his mind set on something, he won't let it go-even if the world's out to get him."

Remus smiled again, but this time with a trace of bitterness. "He's a man of many admirable qualities, some of which I wish I possessed myself."

Lily's eyes softened and she reached out to pat Remus's arm gently. "You know, no one's perfect. Even James Potter needs someone like you to keep his reckless side in check."

The memory of today's Potions lesson flashed before Remus's eyes and he couldn't bite back a laugh. He couldn't deny it. He never really thought of it that way, but now that he did, he was surprised to find he didn't mind it much at all.

Lily brightened up considerably at Remus's lightened mood and gestured him towards the end of the hall.

"This," she announced, "is the Prefects' bathroom…"

xxxx xxxx xxxx xxxx

Remus shoved the last of his books into his book bag and checked his watch. The two tiny needles roughly read a quarter to eight.

Pulling his thin cloak closer about him, Remus hurried his steps toward Professor McGonagall's office. When he started school at Hogwarts, he and Professor Dumbledore had agreed that he would use the fireplace in McGonagall's office to floo back and forth from home to school. It was the safest place they could think of besides the Headmaster's quarters.

Skidding around a corner, Remus checked his watch again and nearly banged into another student. Still not yet accustomed to his role as Prefect, he immediately apologized rather than stiffen up like an angry cat and demand to know what the student was doing out so late.

"My, my," A voice drawled lazily, and Lucius Malfoy stepped out of the shadows. The moonlight pouring in through the tightly shut windows stained the Slytherin's blond hair a pale silver and made the gleam in eyes seem awfully predatory.

"Lupin." He smirked, looking as though Christmas had come early.

"Malfoy." Remus replied coldly, and now his body did stiffen. Being alone with Lucius Malfoy anywhere was never a good sign. "Is there something you want?"

"As a matter of fact, yes," The smirk on Lucius's face widened horribly. "I'd like some answers." The blonde swept slowly forward, drawing himself up tall and imposing, cornering Remus against the wall.

"I don't believe I have any to offer you." Remus said steadily, though his heart was racing in his chest.

"No?" Lucius asked softly, staring down his nose at the boy. "You have absolutely nothing to tell me about what it is that you and Potter are up to? I'm sure you're perfectly capable of regaling me with the tale of how you came to be accepted and not _crushed."_

Lucius's lip curled up in a sneer on the last word.

"What did you do? Beg him? Bribe him? Or perhaps it was something else?" Lucius lowered his head every so slightly and lifted a pale finger, tracing it along Remus's jaw. "Perhaps it was something much more…_personal._"

The meaningful look Lucius burned him with made Remus jump back and fall against the wall. The blonde's touch felt like ice trailing down his face and he knew from those murderous grey eyes that he-Sirius, really-had gotten himself into serious danger.

For a moment, Sirius's grey eyes flickered in his mind and he suddenly saw the resemblance between them and Lucius's, angry and hungry for revenge-

_SWOOSH._

A beam of bright red narrowly missed Remus's nose as Lucius growled and leaped away. It had been so close that Remus could feel the spell rustle his hair. They forgot about each other as both their heads jerked around to follow the path of the spell, which abruptly changed its course and shot upwards, then turned and zigzagged away. The brightness of the ball of light temporary illuminated sections of the walls as it soared up and down, left and right.

Lucius cursed under his breath and hurried down the hall with a sweep of his robes.

Remus silently thanked whoever had interfered and didn't blame them for not revealing themselves-especially not after the example he had made of Remus. Clutching his book bag, Remus sprinted to McGonagall's office, thinking only of getting home.

xxxx xxxx xxxx xxxx

Severus quietly stowed his wand back into his pocket. The Filibuster Spell had done its job and separated Malfoy from Lupin. Being a relatively harmless cousin to the actual Filibuster Firework, the spell was warning enough to Malfoy. And it cleverly did not, as Malfoy had proved by searching the premises with his eyes, expose the position of the caster by repeatedly changing course as it traveled. Just like the real deal, not that Severus liked them much.

Sniffing and looking determinedly grim, Snape turned and disappeared once Lupin had gone from his sight.

xxxx xxxx xxxx xxxx

Remus climbed out of the fireplace at home, still a bit shaken, and stared at the living room. He smacked himself and stared some more.

"YOU'RE HOME!" Sirius, a blur of pearly white, zoomed into the room. He gave Remus's face a once-over and chortled gleefully. "Like what you see?"

For the first time since Remus could remember, the living room was _clean._ No, not just clean-it was _sparkling._

Remus walked over to a cabinet and slid his thumb over the gleaming, mahogany surface. There was not a trace of dust. He turned and spied the remnants of the coffee table stacked neatly in a corner, waiting to be disposed of.

"What did you _do_?" Remus muttered, thoughts of Lucius Malfoy pushed out of his mind by the sight before him.

"I _cleaned._" Sirius replied slowly, as if he were explaining a simple concept to a small child. "Well, not the portrait because it was already clean and Phineas threw a fit when I approached him with a rag."

When Remus said nothing, Sirius's face fell and he began worrying his bottom lip with his teeth. "You don't like it?"

"No!" Remus hurried to expel that notion. "It's-wonderful. Thank you. I just wasn't expecting it."

Sirius's face split into a grin wide enough to eat shit. He looked not unlike a cat that'd just had a bowl of milk and cream on a bitter, winter night.

The place was _very _clean, Remus thought again as he walked into the kitchen and was very nearly blinded by the tiles. Seeing spots of light before his eyes, he sat down to a shining bowl of soup that had grown slightly cold. He picked up his spoon anyway and ate it, because Sirius had taken the time to make it for him. This had become a routine for them over the past week or so: Remus would come home to whatever dinner Sirius managed to cook up and eat it while the ghost hovered nearby and watched. It didn't matter much that today, Remus had eaten dinner in the Great Hall for the first time and could go without more food (courtesy to one James Potter).

"What made you go on a cleaning frenzy?" Remus asked around a sip. The eat shit grin returned to Sirius's face.

"It was good practice." He nodded at the soup and Remus now noted that it wasn't sickeningly sweet as it had been a few days ago. "I'm getting more and more of a grasp on solid things. Soon enough, you'll be eating real food-like fried chicken."

Remus made a noise somewhere between a snort and a laugh and chose not to contradict him on the definition of "real food."

A warm, comfortable silence settled over the kitchen as Remus brought spoonfuls of soup to his lips without gagging. That was a first. He looked up to meet Sirius's grey eyes-marginally lightened by his vaporous form-and suddenly thought of Lucius Malfoy.

He must've grimaced because Sirius jerked his chin out of his palm and asked if something was wrong with the soup. Remus shook his head, but couldn't evade Sirius's question of what _was _wrong then.

"Nothing." He mumbled.

Sirius snorted, resting his chin back in his palm. "And I'm Moaning Myrtle's best friend; might I add she's coming over for a slumber party tomorrow?"

"She is?" Remus dropped his spoon with a clatter.

"You think?" Sirius rolled his eyes, though he looked amused. "Now, _what_ is wrong?"

Sirius stared at Remus expectantly.

Remus caved and sighed wearily. "Lucius Malfoy." Sirius stiffened and sat up at the name.

"I ran into him on my way back today and it seems he hasn't forgotten about your little hex." Remus rubbed his temples.

"Oh." Sirius appeared to be trying to hide something akin to glee.

"He demanded to know what's going on between me and James. I believe," Remus murmured slowly, thinking hard, "he knows I'm hiding something and from the looks of it, he wants to find out. Probably to use it to his advantage. _Something._ I don't _know_. I'm just sure that it'll be something terrible."

Remus slumped forward and scratched at his head in frustration, trying to smother quiet sounds of distress. His fingers stopped raking through his hair when he felt something cool rub the nape of his neck in a soothing rhythm.

"It'll be okay."

Remus peeked up from behind a tuft of hair and was surprised to see the intense look in Sirius's eyes. They spoke of comfort and protection; they silently promised that Sirius would never leave his side-for better or for worse. They were nothing like Lucius's eyes.

Remus felt a hunger like a knife-wound slice upwards from his gut and he almost gasped for breath. The long-suppressed desire for such a warmth since his parents left him tore at his chest like a little monster trying to rip its way out. He never really let himself think about what it would've been like if he had pleaded harder and they had stayed. Would he have the sense of comfort that he did now, with Sirius?

_Maybe…or maybe not._

Remus was suddenly overcome with the urge to wrap his arms around Sirius's silvery body and the only thing stopping him was the knowledge of how painful it would be to crash into the table.

_I can't believe I'm looking to talking vapor and a total jokester for dependability._

But somehow, face leaning only an inch apart from Sirius's, their noses almost touching, Remus couldn't recall a time he had been more assured and happier.

_I'm home._

Remus leaned in closer.

xxxx xxxx xxxx xxxx

**A/N: **I'M ALIVE! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and haven't been gnashing your teeth too much at my tardiness. I liked writing the sections for Snape-he's such a fun bloke. My apologies to Professor Slughorn, who constantly seems to be on the receiving end of my ridicule. I read _Drop Dead Gorgeous_ over my Christmas break and-if any of you have read it-you'll know why I'm unable to look at Slughorn the same again. If you haven't, I highly recommend it. It's a hilarious and crack-filled piece of fanfic that may or may not have broken my brain a bit. Now that you're finished with the latest addition to **GitB**, why don't you just casually wander over to my other fanfics? I am _not_ trying to encourage you to read **Senseless Dreams** (available to you in my bio) between poorly feigned coughs. In other news, I hope you've all had a wonderful Christmas and Happy New Year!

Toodles,

**Raenef**


	7. Flames of Dissentia

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter is not mine. Never has Harry Potter been mine. Mine is not Harry Potter. Harry Potter has never been mine as it is not now. Thank you.

xxxx xxxx xxxx xxxx

As the month of October slowly ebbed away, the days grew shorter and the nights longer. Dusk would settle rapidly upon Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and just as rapidly it would be replaced by the cloak of night. The chilly currents ushered young witches and wizards inside the castle. The steady cascades of auburn leaves prompted cozy nights by the crackling fire in the common room. Already, talk of the Halloween party had spread. Anticipation hung in the air, curling around the senses of the young pupils, tantalizing them with thoughts of warm pumpkin pie, truffle towers, and leathery bat wings beating their way through the Great Hall amidst the traditional, yearly festivities.

Tonight, like many nights before, found Ellery Shelsher and Knox Domville tending to their schoolwork in the Gryffindor Common Room. Well, at least that applied to Mr. Shelsher. Mr. Domville was reclining against his squashy armchair, legs propped up on the table-and on his discarded Charms essay. The allures of Halloween had seduced him as well, leaving a slow grin on his face as he gazed out the window.

"D'you think they'll bring a live band to the party again this year?" Knox tilted his head to regard his companion, who did nothing but blow a strand of hair out his eyes and continue to scratch at the parchment with a quill. He flipped a few pages in his textbook and furrowed his brow as his finger followed a line of text across the paper.

"…cannot retain a permanent effect, but will hold out for several hours. In addition-"

"I hope the house elves will leave Honeydukes on our pillows like last year!" Knox contended, sitting up in excitement from the sudden memory of it.

"I pray, Domville, that Professor Flitwick won't be leaving numerics of a failing caliber to the already diminishing pedigree of your grades."

Knox reached across the table and snatched Ellery's essay out from under his quill. He scanned it quickly and frowned. "You still have another seven inches to go."

"Much more of an accomplishment to show for the past four hours as compared to your measly three inches-of gargantuan font, may I add-wouldn't you agree?" Ellery summoned his parchment with a flick of his wand. The paper flew from Knox's fingers and he caught it neatly.

"Charms hurts my brain."

"_You_ hurt my brain." Ellery grumbled, resuming his perusal of the text book. "If you're not going to get any work done, you may as well get some sleep in."

"No, thanks. I think I'll hang around and keep you company."

"If it's the paper you're waiting for, I'll warn you now that you won't be getting it from me."

Knox spluttered. "That's not it! So I admit, I wouldn't mind seeing your work but that's not the real rea-what was that?"

"The sound of my brain wailing at your lethargy-"

"No, shut up, Elle! I heard something…" Knox twisted around his armchair to look behind them. "It sounded like something shuffling."

The two boys sat stone-still, searching the room with their eyes for a third party.

"I don't hear-"

"Shhh! There it is again."

"_What_ is _where_ again?" Ellery tapped the parchment with his quill impatiently.

"Didn't you hear it?" Knox whipped around to give him a pointed look. "It sounded like…like someone _walking_."

Ellery swept an arm at the premises. "There's nobody there."

"Funny." Knox was still turning his head left and right, "I could've sworn I heard someone."

"Sleep deprivation is clearly making you delusional. I suggest you go to bed right now." Ellery grumbled, raking a hand through his dark hair. "I'll give you my paper tomorrow morning. I'll even wake you up early so you can copy it before class, now please _go._ For my sake, so I can work in peace."

His plea seemed not quite to have registered in Knox's head as he stood up and stretched. "I think I'll go get some fresh air."

"Whatever works for you. Just _go._"

"Pushy, aren't we?" Knox yawned as he strolled away from the fire and climbed out of the portrait hole. Slipping his hands in his pockets to keep them warm, he began walking down the corridor, hoping to work some feeling into his numb legs. Once or twice, he turned around, thinking that he'd heard the same shuffle again, but quickly shook the thought from his head and continued. Maybe Ellery was right. Just this once.

xxxx xxxx xxxx xxxx

James let loose a sigh of relief as Knox Domville turned down a different hallway and disappeared from sight. For a moment back in the Common Room, he'd thought that they had caught him for certain. Thankfully, Ellery Shelsher had not only dispelled any such notions but had also managed to dissuade his companion from staying in the Common Room any longer. With an incredible stroke of luck, it was not, as Shelsher had suggested, the boys' dormitory that Domville headed towards, but the portrait. As James clambered out behind Domville, he was grateful to whichever listening deity that he didn't have to wait until both boys had retired from the Common Room so he could slip away undetected.

Drawing the Invisibility Cloak tighter around himself, James scurried down a set of stairs and made a bee-line for McGonagall's office. He stopped to dodge behind a suit of armor when one Lily Evans returned from her night rounds, yawning hugely into her hand.

James tried to ignore the urge to turn around and follow her back to Gryffindor Tower but couldn't stop the silly grin from spreading across his face. With his eyes still trained on Lily's retreating back, he grasped the handle to McGonagall's office and shoved it open with a squeak.

Lily whipped around with her wand out, all signs of exhaustion wiped from her face. Her green eyes darted down the hall and James, silently cursing himself, quickly slipped into the room. He dared not close the door for fear that he may give away his position. He pressed himself against the wall next to the doorway, breathing hard and waiting for Lily to tuck her wand back into her pocket and walk away like a good little girl.

He nearly had a heart attack when Lily's head poked through the doorway, a mere foot from where he stood. Her wand came next as she lifted it high and muttered "lumos." The light from her wand tip washed the inside of McGonagall's office a pale, blue hue.

She stood, waiting.

He stood, trying to ignore the itch that had started under his nose at the most inopportune moment. She was so close he could reach out and touch her.

Lily eventually relaxed and withdrew her wand, killing the flame and turning sharply on her heel. James took the chance to bury his face into his arm and sneezed loudly. A muffled honk came out from under the Invisibility Cloak.

Once he was sure that Lily had gone, James peeled himself from the wall and pulled off the Cloak when he reached the fireplace. He ignited the fire with his wand and, groping about the mantelpiece, retrieved a handful of glittering Floo powder and tossed it into the fire. The flames instantly burned a bright green. James carefully folded up the Cloak and stepped into the grate.

He was going to pay an old friend a visit tonight. There was some _personal_ business to be discussed.

In his haste, he did not notice, however, a pair of wide, green eyes watching from behind the doorway as he yelled out the address of Remus's house and disappeared in a whirl of soot and flames.

xxxx xxxx xxxx xxxx

His entrance to the Lupin household tonight was much like that of his first. James dropped from the grate with a bang and toppled out, hacking and violently waving the soot clouds from his face. Straightening up, with one hand clamped tightly over the lower half of his face, he threw on the Invisibility Cloak and scuttled over the wooden floorboards like a mouse.

The living room opened up to a winding corridor and a set of stairs crawling up to the second floor. By memory of his previous visit, James knew the kitchen was somewhere down the hall to his left. The bathroom was to the right. He craned his neck and squinted up at the stairway. The darkness in the house was so thick that it shrouded the stairs in shadows, making them look as if they led to a black expanse of nothingness.

James swallowed, in part because of a dry throat from his travel, as well as from a sense of nervousness. The sight of their small party here hung in his mind, adamantly contradicting the heavy silence now surrounding him. He groped through the darkness and felt his fingers brush cold wallpaper. Goosebumps ran up his arm. Hardly able to see a foot in front of him, it was rather difficult to imagine having once spent hours laughing under the same ceiling and walls that reflected the warm, gold light from the glass of their Butterbeer bottles. In the dead of night, the place felt…plain creepy. And not just any kind of creepy. It was unnerving.

The air whispered through the corridor, slipping into rooms and crevices.

_Almost if it were trying to speak of some dark, hidden secret._

James shuddered as he pressed his back against the wall like he had done in McGonagall's office and scooted warily along the structure. He kept his hand out in front of him against the surface to guide the way.

It wasn't long before his fingertips bumped into the first doorframe.

_Kitchen_, he reminded himself.

He counted as he moved along and found the second, unidentified door. He fumbled for the doorknob and pushed. Something fell out and hit him on the head. Cramming his fingers into his mouth to keep from squealing in pain, James jumped when the same something clattered loudly to the floor. Holding his breath, he bent and reached for it tentatively and was struck with a wave of relief when his hand came in contact with the long, thin handle of a broom. He picked it up and examined it. Just an ordinary household broom. Stuffing the offending object back into where it came from, James concluded confidently that the "room" could only be a storage closet.

He proceeded with his crab-walk down the passage, continuing to scout first with his hand. Just when he was about to wonder where it would end, he felt his fingers passed over an odd bump on the wall and the hard surface against his back vanished into thin air.

James couldn't quash his cry of alarm as he fell backwards and crashed into what appeared to be a metal bar, as it gave a low hum upon contact. He squirmed into a sitting position and groped around for support, finding a railing. The sharp, ice-like sensation that met his hands confirmed his conjecture-it was indeed metal. But what the hell was it doing here? And where the hell was "here" anyway?

He peered down the metal staircase that spiraled downwards, swallowed by the sea of darkness. A flicker of purple light emerged at the bottom of the strange cavern and James was able to see that the area dropped deep into the ground-below the house. By the peculiarly blinking dot of light, he could barely make out the bottom of the expanse.

Instinct told him to stay away, but the purple glow of light was…awfully fascinating. It glittered and bobbed in the distance as if it were performing some ancient, ritual dance. It called to him, beckoned him closer…

James felt his mind being wiped like a clean slate, and he stood up. One foot found its way on the first metal plate forming the staircase. Then the other. He slowly descended into the darkness, eyes fixed on the single, purple gleam. It looked so nice…

His feet pattered across the floor of smooth, rock slabs, echoes bouncing off the walls and climbing up the deep well. He was now close enough to identify the light as a twisting, purple flame. It wiggled and waved in such a friendly manner at him, James couldn't refuse to approach.

He stepped up to the raised, rock platform were the flame burned brightly and rested his hands on the cool edge. Yes, it was so very friendly…it would be so nice to just reach out and…touch it. Caress the pretty creature. It looked more soft than fiery…almost like a furry little animal. A slow, absent grin spread across James face. Yes, he was quite sure that it was tame…

A scream rang out. It took a moment to register in James head that it was his own voice, shrill with agony.

He wrenched his hand out of the purple fire and was knocked backwards by an overwhelming metallic stench crowding in on him from all sides. It smelled as though something had died and had been sitting around rotting for weeks.

Stumbling backwards towards the staircase, James felt his heel kick something hard that spun and slid across the floor. He whipped around. It was a broken chair leg.

The leg collided into the remnants of a couch, its stuffing exploding from the gashes in the cloth and strewn about, resembling a poorly gutted fish.

James felt his heart jump into his throat. The tangy odor clawed at his lungs and made his eyes water. He turned and sprinted for the staircase, slipping in some moist areas and tripping over other pieces of furniture. As he dashed up the staircase, placing as much distance as possible between him and the flame, it suddenly came to him. He knew what it was-he'd learned about it just today. He cursed himself for falling for it and realizing what it was far too late. But what was such a flame doing in this house?

The glints of light flashed off the surface of the steps and revealed deep grooves carved into the metal, almost as though some ferocious creature had tried to claw its way up the staircase.

James bolted out of the cavern and slammed his hand against the wall, frantically looking for the odd bump that had opened up the wall. His fingers scrabbled and his breaths came in ragged gasps. He could hear his blood pounding in his ears-

"James?"

He jumped like a scalded cat and spun around to face one anxious Sirius, hovering over him. He opened his mouth to tell him he didn't mean to snoop into the cavern, throwing an edgy look over his shoulder and letting his jaw fall slack.

The wall had closed.

_Oh, good sweet Lord. _James looked as though he might weep. _I thank you from the bottom of my heart._

"James…you all right there, mate?"

"Yeah. I'm good now." James breathed, wiping cold sweat from his brow. "I was just-startled."

Sirius looked concerned.

"Really." James stooped and picked the Invisibility Cloak off the floor to avoid meeting Sirius's eyes. "I'm okay now. I am."

Sirius didn't look too convinced, but he didn't press the matter further.

"Tea?" He waved a translucent arm at the kitchen. "I'm assuming you have something to tell me." One corner of his lips lifted in a small, crooked smile as he eyed the Cloak like a familiar old friend.

"Yeah, sure." James folded up his trusty partner-in-crime and trailed after Sirius.

"Don't make too much noise." Sirius cautioned as he floated to the cupboard and opened it, pulling out a copper kettle. "I don't need to sleep, but Remus certainly does. He's got school tomorrow."

James snorted as he took a seat at the table, lifting the chair so as not to scrape it along the tiles. "My, my, my, Mrs. Black. Aren't you the perfect little wife?"

"Up yours, Jamie." Sirius said affectionately as he placed a mug on the counter. "Are you sure you're all right? Mind you, you were making a real racquet in the hall."

"Don't change the subject, Mrs. Lupin."

"Mrs. Lu-HEY!" Sirius spun in midair.

"Shut up! Remus needs to sleep."

"You're one to talk." Sirius rolled his eyes and flung a teabag into the mug a bit too hard, making it skid across the countertop.

"That's right." James wore an expression of immense smugness. He laced his fingers together and propped his chin on the tent they formed. "So, my pretty one, when are you confessing?"

Sirius dropped the kettle.

James watched with fascinated amusement as Sirius made a highly difficult acrobatic dive and caught the kettle in his arms before it clanged onto the sparkling tiles. He looked a bit pale, if that could be said of a ghost.

"Potter, what the _fu-"_

"Please." James held up a hand to stop him. "Don't even try. It's so obvious."

"_What_ are you talking-"

"Do you really want me to say it?" James leaned into his chair and draped an arm over the back.

Sirius replied by plopping the kettle onto the stove rather forcefully and glaring at it.

James shrugged. He decided to say it anyway. "You love Remus."

Sirius whirled around, a protest on his lips and his index finger jabbing in James's direction. He clenched and unclenched his jaw, then spun back and ignored the other boy.

"I knew it. You _do_ love him."

"So what if I do?" Sirius watched the kettle sullenly.

"So, tell him." James lifted his arms, making it sound as easy as spreading butter on bread.

"I _can't,_ you idiot." Sirius waved him off, anger and frustration wrinkling his brow. "I'm a goddamned _ghost_ for fuck's sake-"

"And that's all the more reason to do it."

Sirius stared at him as though he were crazy. "You're crazy."

"So I'm told." James shrugged dismissively.

"I can't tell him anything. I mean-what's the point?" Sirius stared off into a corner of the kitchen. "What could I offer him? I wouldn't even be able to hold down a normal relationship with him-provided that he…that he feels the same way."

The kettle began to give a low whistle. Sirius, still gazing off pensively into the distance, stuck out a hand to drag it off the stove. His hand sunk into the copper.

James winced before he could stop himself. He coughed into his fist and did his best to remain nonchalant.

Sirius snapped to attention and looked absolutely disgusted with himself. He yanked his hand away and, as he successfully drew the kettle away this time, mouthed "see my point?" to the other boy.

James pondered it for a moment. "You know," he said thoughtfully. "We could probably make you solid..."

Sirius gave a dry laugh as he poured hot water into the mug.

"We _can_." James insisted. "We've mastered Animagi transformations, created the Marauder's Map, what's there we can't do?"

"Reviving the dead is a different matter, Jamie. It's playing God-"

"I'm not talking about _reviving _you. That would be pretty stupid, considering all the things that could and would go wrong. I'm saying we transfer you to a new body."

Sirius paused. "Are you going to go dig a grave?" He eyed James suspiciously.

"No." James put his hands on the table and leaned forward, a maniacal gleam in his eyes. "I'm going to _make_ you a body. I've already done some research on the subject and it's confirmed to be a much safer and trustable method than bringing you straight back from the dead."

Sirius couldn't find anything to say, so he settled for gaping.

James raised an eyebrow. "What, you didn't think I was joking around, did you? I just got you back. D'you think I'd do anything less?"

Sirius cast his eyes to the floor. "I wasn't…expecting this. Somehow it doesn't seem right."

"What doesn't seem right?" James said sharply, standing from his seat. "You think getting a new body isn't right? Are you saying your death was right? That it was absolutely fair? That you _deserved_ to be taken away? Are you telling me it was fair for us to bear such a loss?"

Sirius opened his mouth but James silenced him.

"The war was thrown upon us without our consent. If you had been an Auror, if you had been fighting amongst the ranks of the Ministry, if you had died a warrior's death, I would be able to do nothing than mourn you. But that wasn't the case.

"You were but a student at Hogwarts who ran off to stop the Muggle hunt and ended up being cursed to death by _your own family_. At your funeral, your mother-if I can even call her that-wailed about you being a pureblood traitor, your father looked utterly repulsed, and the few guests they invited acted like it didn't matter. Tell me: how was any of that fair to you? The simple presence of your ghost now is solid evidence that none of this had been right or fair. Or you wouldn't have come back, right?"

Sirius couldn't lift his eyes to meet James's.

"It was obvious you loved Remus even while you were alive." James's countenance softened. "You didn't think I would miss those furtive looks you threw his way, did you? I saw the way you admired him. I knew you wanted more than just watching him from afar and I knew why you never did anything."

James smiled sadly. "You're as loud as the devil himself and you flirt outrageously, but when you find someone that you really love, you get horribly quiet and shy. Don't blame you about Remus, though-there was just something about him that made him feel unapproachable. I felt it too.

"You deserve at least a chance at happiness, Sirius. You've never even lived a real life for your past seventeen years, what with growing up in the shadows of a Death Eater family upholding pureblood traditions. For Merlin's sake, you were raised solely for the purpose of becoming a 'well-bred Black' with a network of connections and enough money to buy a whole damn country. You never had a say in anything."

There was a long moment of silence as James waited for his speech to sink in.

"It's not just me. Remus can't afford to lose you either. I don't know if you've noticed, but ever since you showed up, he's really come to life now. He's lost the whole "I'm-going-to-die-tomorrow" look and he's actually talking to me and Peter and he's _happy_. Where do you think you'd leave him if you didn't try-didn't tell him how you felt? I know there's something there."

"What if I scare him away?" Sirius sounded hoarse.

"If he wanted to be scared of you, he would've disowned you a long time ago. And…if it comes to that, just blame me, okay?"

Sirius finally looked up.

James smiled softly. "If anything goes wrong-the confession or the 'make Sirius human again' plan-you can lay the blame on me. I'm selfish, and admitting to that flaw is a small price to pay to have you back in flesh and finally happy."

Sirius looked stunned. He quickly turned away, scrubbing furiously at his face, and fiddled with the mug.

"Now, if you don't mind, little wife-in-training, I'd like to have my tea."

xxxx xxxx xxxx xxxx

Earlier that morning, Remus woke to a pair of flying boxers that landed squarely on his face.

"Wakey, wakey! The sun is shining, the magpies are squawking, it's time to get up and go to school!"

Remus made a noise like a wounded animal and rolled onto his stomach.

Sirius paused in his digging through the closet. "Remy, don't you have anything besides black and brown robes? I think this calls for a trip to Diagon Alley."

Remus grunted. The boxers fell to the floor.

Sirius turned to check on him and clucked his tongue when he saw the discarded clothing. "You get up right now, Remus Lupin. Breakfast is ready and you'll be late if you don't get your bony arse out of that bed this minute."

"Make me." Remus gurgled into the pillow.

A short silence followed.

Then Remus felt his mattress sink with the weight of someone crawling across the covers. He turned his face a little to give himself some air and grinned. He could feel Sirius's cool breath on his warm neck.

"Remember that you asked for this." He whispered huskily into Remus's ear, upsetting the messy strands of honey-colored hair.

Remus felt nudging against his sides and he wriggled, laughing. Sirius was trying to tickle him through the covers.

"Nice try, Sirius." He murmured, curling deeper into the sheets. "But you'll have to work harder than that. I am the King of sleeping-in and the Sand Man's most faithful slave. I sleep as though my life depended upon it, which it does and which you are rudely interrupting. You evil, evil man."

"Evil, am I?" Sirius smirked, black eyes twinkling like twin gems of obsidian. "I'll show you evil, then."

When Remus felt Sirius's fingers slipping right through the covers and through his pajama top to wreak havoc upon the bare skin of his sides, his eyes popped open and he yelped like a puppy who'd just had its tail stepped on.

He leapt up, cracked his head against the headboard, attempted to stand on the squishy mattress and stumbled into a bed post.

"You must admit: I make a damn good villain." Sirius snickered as he watched Remus wrestle his way out of the curtains enclosing the bed. He swooped forward and caught Remus as he fell backwards off the mattress.

"Good morning, my Sleeping Beauty." Sirius greeted him, winking.

Remus brought the back of his hand dramatically to his forehead. "Alas! My Prince Charming! I am ever so delighted to see you outside of my dreams, but I must have you know, you were much more handsome in them-"

Sirius let his princess slip through his arms. Remus hit the floor with a surprised squeak.

"Where has your gentlemanly breeding gone?" He accused from the ground.

"I am most sorry, love." Sirius gave such an exaggerated bow that his nose was in danger of touching the tips of his toes. "You see, my arms aren't quite as _solid_ as they used to be."

"Liar." Remus rolled onto his stomach and crawled to his feet unsteadily. Sirius offered him his arm, but he only batted it away. "I fear taking another fall, my prince."

Sirius laughed. "It seems I have injured you beyond physical measures, dearest. Allow me to make up for my despicable mistake by accompanying you to the castle. How very fitting, don't you think?"

By now, Remus had been around Sirius long enough to know when to and not to take his words at face value. Unfortunately, now was a true moment of gravity. That didn't mean he needed to lay off the medieval wordplay, though.

"And what noble things shall you do for me at the castle?"

"Oho! Excellent question, my sweet!" Sirius drew himself up several feet in the air, clasping one hand to his chest with great valor. "I shall protect you from the bitter, the wicked, the sly, scheming Count Malfoy!"

"But that is much too dangerous for you!" Remus exclaimed, twirling as he entered the bathroom. "I have guards to do that job."

"If you speak of the noble Lord Potter and Pettigrew, I'm afraid they are not enough protection for one as fair as yourself."

"Lies and slander." Remus sang, pulling a brush through his mussed hair. He winced as the teeth of the brush snagged on numerous knots. This was his painful morning ritual.

"It is truth." Sirius plucked the brush from Remus's fingers and began carefully combing it through his hair, loosening the knots with his fingers. "You handle a brush as a knight would handle his lance. Any more of this yanking and you shall resemble a flea-riddled dog."

Remus scowled and grabbed at the brush, but Sirius deftly evaded.

"This is exactly why-" Sirius bowled along. "I should be there to protect you not only from the dreadful Count but from yourself as well. Lord Potter and Pettigrew cannot keep their eyes on you at all times, but I can, for I swear upon my honor that I shall remain with you no matter what."

"And you'll promise not to run around hexing other students into sweet oblivion?"

"That too, love."

Remus crossed his arms and stared at Sirius's reflection in the mirror. "Fine, then. I'll trust you."

"I can only say," Sirius smiled as he returned the brush to the counter and lifted Remus's hand to lay a gentle kiss on the back, "that you have laid you trust in the correct place, lovely one."

xxxx xxxx xxxx xxxx

"You have most definitely laid your trust in the correct place, love." He assured Remus again as Remus-or rather, Sirius possessing Remus-stepped outside of the Hogwarts' castle gates into the nipping wind for Care of Magical Creatures with Professor Gilbett. James was grinning like a madman, delighted to have both his old best friend and his new best friend mashed together in one body and sitting through grueling lessons with him together. Peter had been indulging Remus-and sometimes Sirius-as a bipolar patient. It was not without reason, though. Remus's usually courteous self would occasionally burst out in raucous laughter or unexpectedly play a little joke here and there. Because of Sirius's frequent lying, Peter soon gave up on trying to tell them apart. James found the whole situation to be highly amusing. By the end of their third class, he had officially dubbed Remus and his possessor Dr. Jekyll and Hyde.

"I think I should take over for this class." Remus dictated.

"Just a while longer," Sirius replied in his mind. "You can still attend the lesson from where you are now. It'll be less of a strain on you physically."

The trio-and Sirius-approached the rest of the class. A crowd of Hufflepuffs, Gryffindors, and Slytherins were gathered in front of Professor Gilbett, stamping their feet and puffing into their hands. Lucius, Bellatrix, and Augustus were among them. The Professor herself was wrapped securely in a thick robe and a scarf that was evidently a multi-colored patchwork of cloth. She was a little old lady with her graying hair pulled back into a tight bun. Despite her grandmotherly appearance, she was sharp, strict, and not anywhere near senile. And she did not bake cookies or knit. Today, she was standing rigidly beside a large crate, waiting for the entire class to arrive.

When the last of the stragglers had caught up, Professor Gilbett clapped her hands twice. "Gather around!"

The class complied, more than eager to huddle from the bitter weather.

"I know we're all cold." She began.

"Freezing." A Hufflepuff girl shivered.

"Popsicled." Ellery added.

Knox rubbed his pink nose. "My nose is going to fall off-"

"Enough with the whining!" Professor Gilbett silenced him with a wave of her small, mittened hand. "Fortunately or unfortunately for all of you, today's lesson will provide some heat to us. Now, I want you all to pay close attention."

She reached into her crate and pulled out a glass jar. Within the glass walls, a small, purple flame glowed brightly. A few of the girls "ooh"ed.

"Look into the fire." She instructed. "And tell me what you see."

The students obeyed, some even shuffling closer in hopes of warming themselves while pretending to try and get a better look.

"I see…" A boy with mouse-brown hair muttered, squinting hard at the jar. His eyes widened and a glazed look came over them. "I see…happiness."

"Me too…" The girl in pigtails next to him agreed, staring intensely into the flames as well. "It's…beautiful…"

"It _is _quite nice." James agreed, a lazy look coming over his face.

Peter was completely taken with the purple fire and took a step forward. Remus, finding Sirius distracted as well, snatched the opportunity to take back his arm and use it to yank Peter back. He stared at the fire grimly. He knew what the purple flame was and what it was for. Personal experience had familiarized him with that particular magical fire. Of course, it was natural for the rest of the students-even the studious ones as well-not to know it. It was not a very popular sort of flame after all.

Indeed, upon looking around, Remus noted identical expressions of hypnotism on every face.

"You're quite the tease, Professor." A sharp voice cut through the silence.

Remus whirled around and was surprised to see Ellery Shelsher's dark eyes trained on Professor Gilbett, wearing a slightly bored expression.

The Professor smiled her approval and drew a whistle to her lips. She blew on it the same time she tossed a black veil over the glass jar. The shill cry of the whistle pierced the eardrums of the students and they jumped back in pain, covering their ears in unison. The dazed look left their eyes and they all looked around at each other, confused. Some even looked disappointed.

"What you've just experienced," Professor Gilbett announced, "is the effect of the Flames of Dissentia, also known as the Fire of Aphrodite. Mr. Shelsher, would you like to explain the phenomenon that just occurred to us?"

"My pleasure." Ellery gave the Professor a small nod. "We were hypnotized. The Flames of Dissentia are a special type of fire that draws the observer in. It creates a sense of comfort, warmth, and security. Once you look into it, it becomes very difficult to look away again. If you do manage to tear your eyes from it, you may even feel a sense of great loss."

"Very true. Take ten points for Gryffindor, Mr. Shelsher." Professor Gilbett said. "Who can tell me the uses of this flame?"

The class looked around at one another again. Remus knew the answer, but he was smart enough not answer for his own sake. He peeked at Ellery out of the corner of his eye, waiting for the Care of Magical Creatures expert to reply. But Ellery only yawned and looked away.

_Smart boy._ Remus thought appreciatively.

"No one?" The Professor asked. "Good. You're not supposed to know this. The Flames of Dissentia, as Mr. Shelsher had informed us a moment ago, is a hypnotic flame. Five centuries ago, this very flame was used to poach and tame magical creatures. Hunters used to leave jars of this fire out in the forest and animals would be lured by it. They would then return the next morning and collect the fire-and the animals that followed it out of their homes. It was not uncommon to see Unicorns, and occasionally Centaurs transfixed by this fire. It's potentially strong enough to tame even a wild werewolf.

But for obvious reasons, the Ministry has outlawed use of this fire. With the Flames of Dissentia, illegal poaching of creatures would be only too easy. At some point, humans even began using it on each other for personal gain, earning it the name "Aphrodite's fire." When looking upon the flames, our senses are lured into a false state of euphoria and security-something love often does."

The class watched Professor Gilbett in awe as she put the jar on the ground and pulled out a potted plant from her crate. "You may want to cover you ears for a moment." She advised, grabbing the plant and giving it a hard yank.

Several students gasped as the ugly head and body of a Mandrake emerged from the soil with a pop. But before it could open its mouth and begin a blood-curdling wail, Professor Gilbett unveiled the purple flames and held the Mandrake up to the glass.

The oddly-shaped plant-child swiveled its eyes to the fire and abruptly closed its mouth. After a moment's deliberation, it reached out with both dirt-covered arms and hugged the jar, gurgling like a real, human baby.

Professor Gilbett left it there as she reached into the crate yet again and pulled out a Blast-Ended Skrewt the length of a foot. Even at such a small size, the Skrewt had already developed its hard armor and quite an amount of firepower. The professor dropped it next to the jar and it, too, crawled up and watched the fire quietly instead of attacking the horde of people staring at it.

"Now, listen up!" Professor Gilbett snapped, holding up a cage in her small arms. Within the metal confinement, copious, striped fur balls with bushy tails squeaked and crawled over one another.

"Guinea Weasels." The professor explained. "I'm going to release them in a moment, and I want you all to catch them and bring them back with the Flames of Dissentia and a calling whistle. Split into groups of six and come get your materials!"

The students shuffled forward and began lining up for their supplies. Remus gave Sirius a little mental poke. He stretched and began following the other pupils, James and Peter in tow.

As they got into line, Lucius walked past with his two bodyguards flanking him on either side and holding their materials. He smirked at them and swept away.

Sirius muttered a string of colorful words under his breath that made Remus blush furiously.

Lucius stopped and turned, lips pursed into a thin line and doing a very accurate impression of Professor McGonagall before she was about to reprimand a student.

"Goodness, Lupin. I didn't think you were capable of such vulgarity."

His lips curved downwards into an ugly frown when he saw Remus narrow his eyes. "No words are vulgar enough to describe you, Malfoy." He spat.

"And only a dirty, lowlife animal would use such language in its fit of jealousy." Lucius retorted, fixing Remus with his most superior glare.

For a second, Remus looked as though he had been slapped across the face. But the moment left as quickly as it had come and before anyone had quite realized it, Remus had crossed the distance between himself and Lucius.

He buried a fist into the front of Lucius's robes and brought their faces an inch apart. Bellatrix and Augustus quickly fumbled around their supplies for their wands, but James and Peter already had theirs drawn and aimed at the chests of Lucius's two cronies.

"To someone with his nose held so high in the air he can't even see the ground before him, an animal I may be," Remus hissed, "but dirty and lowlife I am not. I'm not the one who spends his time bribing his marks and playing on the wrong side of the field in the war. Keep that up, Malfoy, and I promise you won't come out in one piece. Just pray that your hooded pals get to you first."

Remus released Lucius's collar roughly and stepped away. Lucius glared daggers at him, but said nothing. His platinum blonde hair was slightly disheveled and his face was a light pink. He straightened his robe-front with a jerk, turned on his heel and walked rapidly away, an expression of fury etched into his pale features.

"What the hell do you think you're waiting for?!" He snapped, when Bellatrix and Augustus just stared, flabbergasted. They hurried after him as he retreated, clutching their possessions.

When they were out of earshot, James slapped Remus on the back and gave a low whistle. "Sweet speech, Sirius! Pretty damn menacing, even for you."

Remus turned and smiled sweetly. "You've got it wrong, Jamie. That last part wasn't me. It was Remus."

xxxx xxxx xxxx xxxx

The rest of the day passed peaceably for Remus, or as peaceably as it could get with James congratulating him and Sirius agreeing loudly in his head-sometimes in his person. Peter acquired a newfound admiration for Remus as well.

It was in the middle of lunch that James suddenly dropped his chicken casserole and made an odd noise.

"Hippogriff toe in your casserole?" Sirius sniggered, spearing another ravioli with pleasure.

"_Sirius._" James looked at him with wide eyes. "Remember our last Project?"

Sirius groaned. "Plant identification for Herbology? God, that's going to be a pain in the arse. We're supposed to differentiate between poisonous and nonpoisonous species-you know, if _I_ can remember this, you ought to pay more attention in class-"

"No! No, no, no!" James waved his fork at him. "Not that thing! The _other_ thing. That other Project. _The _Project we created, remember?"

Sirius made Remus take a bite at the ravioli and give James a look of uncertainty.

James bent his head closer and lowered his voice, checking to make sure that no one was listening. "The Project we were working on before you kicked the bucket on me, remember? The _Map_."

Comprehension flashed across Remus's face, courtesy to Sirius. "You mean you've still been at it? Are you finished-"

"That's the problem!" James got that excited gleam in his eye again. "Based on theory, it should be up and working normally, but there's been a couple of kinks Peter and I just couldn't work out."

Sirius looked crestfallen.

"I want Remus to help." The gleam in James's eyes grew to a frightening degree. "He's got brains that would sell for millions of galleons on the black Wizarding market! It'd be perfect!"

The real Remus wasn't too sure what they were trying to involve him in, but he had a feeling it was probably illegal in some way or another. If not illegal, they were probably going to end up breaking a hundred rules along the way.

Too bad it was a flurry of glee that lighted Remus's face and not the skepticism Remus was truly feeling. "God, Jamie, you're bloody _brilliant!_ Why didn't I think of that sooner?"

James sat back with a smug grin, oblivious that Peter had just made away with the rest of his casserole. "Well? What's it going to be then?" He was addressing Remus.

Sirius waited expectantly. "Is this…illegal?" Remus looked concerned. "Are people going to get hurt?"

James and Sirius both shot to their defense immediately.

"It's absolutely safe." James promised. "It's almost like a quill and parchment sort of project, only more creative."

"Yeah, and it will definitely benefit us in the future." Sirius nodded.

"No carnage?" Remus was still a bit uncertain.

"Paper and parchment." The two of them solemnly swore.

Twenty minutes later in an empty classroom protected by an assortment of charms, James pulled out a regular-looking piece of parchment and "solemnly swore that he was up to no good."

Remus groaned. He had a feeling this would happen. Sirius, on the other hand, was almost rubbing his hands together in sheer exuberance. Remus thought it ought to be illegal for one to be so happy about causing trouble, but he still turned his attention to the piece of parchment and watched with amazement as where James's wand tip had touched it, a network of lines shot to cover the paper and form a miniature map of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Upon closer inspection, there were even tiny colored dots moving across the parchment with names labeled under them. Remus peered at the second floor Charms classroom-where they were now-and couldn't stop a rush of excitement when he saw four dots clustered together, each respectively labeled "Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, James Potter, and Peter Pettigrew."

His excitement died when the dots on the map flickered and vanished. Remus found himself groaning along with Sirius.

"See? That's the problem." James rubbed a hand through his forever-tousled hair. "The dots won't stay on the map. I haven't been able to figure out what went wrong."

"What spells did you use?" Remus looked up with the air a scientist at work. James pulled out another piece of parchment from his pocket with the list of charms and spells. Remus took it eagerly and perused the scrawled handwriting, nodding from time to time. He stopped at the bottom and frowned. "That last spell-did you use it to stabilize the tracking system?"

James gave an affirmative.

"That must be why." Remus pushed back some stray locks of hair and looked up at James enthusiastically.

"It conflicts with the spell up here-" He jabbed a finger at spell number thirty-two. "If you get rid of that, the map should work."

"But we need to keep that." James protested a bit protectively over his hard work. "Otherwise the ink will bleed right off the paper."

Remus didn't seem to have heard him as he laid the map down on a desk and pulled out his wand. Tapping it against the parchment a few times, he muttered something and drew back in satisfaction. "This should take care of it."

James and Peter shuffled up to take a closer look and beamed in surprise. The dots were back on the papering and no longer flickering. James pulled Remus into a playful headlock, mussing up his hair to match his own.

"You-are-bloody-brilliant-"James shouted between each ruffle. He suddenly pulled away and looked at Remus gravely. "For your much appreciated contribution, I feel it is necessary to reward you."

In his head, Sirius gave his agreement. Peter also nodded fervently.

"From now on," James began, sounding rather like a minister, "You shall officially hold the title of Remus Lupin-Marauder and Mischief-maker of the Gryffindor Quartet."

Sirius gave a deafening whoop in Remus's head. His face split into a wide grin. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he felt the need to chide himself for allowing such misbehavior, but the cheerful faces of his friends and the surge of joy he felt with them washed the thought away. The simple gesture of acceptance made Remus absolutely giddy. He felt as though he'd eaten a whole box of Chocolate Frogs by himself.

_So this is what it feels like to belong._ It was…incredible. It was like a bud of fire igniting in the pit of his stomach and spreading its warmth to every finger and toe, across every inch of skin-it made his mind a bit hazy. Remus marveled at the feeling, dazed.

"C'mon," James grabbed Remus's elbow and stuffed the map back into his pocket. "This calls for a celebration."

He dragged the other boy-Peter huffing and puffing behind them-up to the third floor, skidding to a halt in front of the statue of a one-eyed witch with a large hump. James tapped the statue's back with his hand and whispered "Dissendium." The hump opened up to reveal a passageway large enough to fit a person.

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see." James winked and dropped inside the hole, beckoning the others to follow. Remus climbed in after him and felt himself slide a ways down. His hands reached out and touched hard, packed dirt. Remus quickly shifted away when he heard Peter drop into the tunnel and began feeling his way forward. It was relatively dark and damp, with hidden tree roots tripping him along the way. The tunnel eventually began to rise and gave way to a set of worn, stone steps that lead-

"To a trapdoor." Remus wondered. He had to shield his eyes when James lifted it from the other side and a bright beam of light shot down the passageway.

"Hurry up." He chirped, holding the door open for Remus and Peter as they crawled through.

"Where are we?" Remus surveyed what appeared to be a cellar room with boxes and crates of every size stacked around the place.

"Take a guess." James smirked, cracking open the top of a crate and lifting out a package of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Jelly Beans.

Remus looked both stunned and impressed. _So this was what they meant by the map benefiting them._ "Dare I suggest Honeydukes' cellar?"

"You may." James grinned as he and Peter grabbed the ends of a box and hauled it to the trapdoor.

"Then isn't this blatant stealing?" Remus peered at them, a small frown on his lips.

"Think of it," James panted, groping for the handle of the trapdoor, "as borrowing with an indefinite return date. _And-_" he cut in before Remus could protest, "-if I remember correctly, we promised you no carnage. Nicking some sweets in celebration of your inauguration was never mentioned in the deal."

Remus laughed and shook his head in defeat. He walked around to pull open the trapdoor for a wheezing James, who thanked him with a salute and began descending the steps.

When Peter set his foot on the first stone step after James, the doorknob to the cellar rattled. Remus spun, alarmed. He could hear a key being inserted into the knob. "Hurry up!" He hissed to Peter.

The knob jiggled again. The key was retracted from it. The person on the other side of the door hummed as he turned the knob free and pushed.

"Come with us-" Peter began but Remus let the trapdoor fall shut and dove behind a stack of crates labeled 'Cockroach Clusters.' He dodged just as the door swung open and the man walked in with heavy steps, whistling loudly. His heart beat frantically in his chest like a bird against its cage. He waited with baited breath as the footsteps neared until he could hear the whistling almost directly above his head. The crate at the top of the stack that he was crouching behind slid off. The man grunted, shuffled, and headed back to the door, steps falling like thunder.

Remus waited until he heard the door swing shut and the lock click back into place before he peeked out from behind the tower of Cockroach Clusters.

_All clear._ Sirius informed him, and gave him a mental thump on the back for his quick thinking.

"That was a bit too close for my liking." Remus grimaced as he pulled open the trapdoor once more and lowered himself inside.

_Ah, but tis the life of brave, noble Marauder._

Remus rolled his eyes and ignored him, feeling his way through the tunnel and wondering if James and Peter had already made it safely back with their box of stolen goods.

xxxx xxxx xxxx xxxx

Snape was strolling down the third floor corridor, breathing a bit hard from escaping Filch for the third time that day. The man had been loonier than usual, lunging out at students in the hallways and demanding that they return Mrs. Norris. Just a short while ago, he had jumped in front of Severus and grabbed him by the shoulders with alarming strength, asking where he had hidden his beloved cat. It had taken all six and a half years of Severus's Wizarding-training to shake off the rabid caretaker and sprint away. He found himself slowing to a stop to catch his breath on the third floor when he turned the corner and saw Remus Lupin fall from the back of the statue of a one-eyed Witch.

_Another loony_, was the first thought that came to mind, but he only glowered and continued walking, proceeding to ignore the other boy altogether. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Remus clambered to his feet and patted his robes. He looked up to see Severus and offered him a tentative smile.

Severus scowled in return.

Remus fixed him with a look of horrification, as though he'd grown a beak. It took a moment for Severus to realize that Remus was not directing his stare at him, but at some point beyond his shoulder. He turned in bewilderment with a swish of his cloak and snarled.

Filch was pelting down the corridor Severus had just traveled and was heading straight for them, arms outstretched and eyes bulging rather repulsively.

_God damn FUCK._ Severus whipped out his wand. He'd had enough of this wild goose chase; if Filch was going to keep up his pursuit, Severus would show him the consequences of irritating a trained wizard who didn't particularly care for detentions.

A hand closed around his wrist and another yanked his wand away. Severus spluttered, about to round on his second offender, when he felt himself being yanked backwards into the deserted classroom next to the one-eyed Witch.

Remus threw him inside, slammed the door shut and began casting protective charms with Severus's wand. Severus was too stunned to move from the floor.

When Remus had finished barricading the door, he was panting almost as hard as Severus had when he'd escaped Filch's grasp.

"Here." Remus tossed Severus's wand back to him. "I'm pretty sure we're safe, but you'll want that anyway."

Remus collapsed on the floor next to him, panting and wiping sweat from his face. Severus turned himself away and felt a nerve twitch under his eye when a loud crunch shook the door. That must've been Filch.

He was proved correct a moment later when fists could be heard banging desperately on the door and Filch howled like a wolf. "COME OUT! COME OUT! I KNOW YOU HAVE HER! GIVE HER BACK! GIVE ME BACK MRS. NORRIS!"

Severus snarled.

"We don't have her!" Remus shouted, clutching his wand before him.

"LIES! ALL LIES! I KNOW YOU HAVE HER IN THERE! YOU WOULDN'T BE HIDING IF YOU WEREN'T HOLDING HER HOSTAGE!"

"You heard the bloke!" Severus barked. "We don't have your stupid cat!"

Remus whipped around to stare at him, surprise written all over his face.

Severus tried to ignore his look. "And we wouldn't be blockading ourselves in if it weren't for your unending harassment." He added for good measure.

"LIES! LIES…lies…" The banging died down to a forlorn scratching at the door. "Where is my pretty? My darling Mrs. Norris, who would take you away from a poor bloke like me."

Severus snorted.

Remus chuckled.

They both watched the door in silence until the scratching and the wailing disappeared.

Remus hesitated. "Do you think he's still there?"

Severus got to his feet and headed for the door. He wrenched it open and felt a relief he did not visibly show. "He's gone."

He watched as Remus breathed a sigh of relief and climbed up from the floor as well. "Sorry about earlier." Remus gave him a small, apologetic smile as he passed him to the door. "I know you meant it as self-defense, but the detention wouldn't have been worth it."

Severus said nothing.

"Well, I guess I'll see you in class then." Remus turned and left.

Severus wanted to do the same, but he remained rooted as the other boy walked away rubbing his shoulder, sore from the barrage of spell-casting. He wasn't sure what to think. He knew James Potter would have framed him, just for the hell of it. He knew Peter Pettigrew would have deserted him. And Sirius Black-if he were still around-would have blocked him outside the door with Filch.

A month ago, he would've expected Remus Lupin to pull a Peter Pettigrew. A week ago, he would've expected him to mimic either James Potter or Sirius Black. Today, he thought he was screwed.

He was wrong on all three counts. And, as he swept away to the Slytherin Dungeons to ensure that Filch wouldn't find him a fifth time, he supposed he didn't mind being slightly off the mark this once.

xxxx xxxx xxxx xxxx

"I suppose I don't mind being wrong this time." Remus popped a Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Bean into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully.

_You were lucky._ Sirius countered. _He could've done a lot of things to you. Snape is more than capable._

"He's a competent wizard," Remus agreed as he admired James perform a particularly low swoop on his broom to wave to him, a jelly slug hanging from his mouth. Sirius made a noise of humorous disgust. Peter was chugging along like a toy train, four feet in the air.

They were outside on the Hogwarts' field, enjoying the last bit of dusk before the sky turned a complete pitch black. Remus lay next to their crate of sweets, slowly savoring his inauguration and watching James and Peter soar about on their brooms. Well, James was.

"I don't think he's inherently evil though. Just a bit closed off." Remus concluded, reaching for another Bean.

_His face says otherwise._

"Looks can be deceiving." Remus smiled knowingly.

"Rem!" James executed a perfect landing behind Remus, just barely scraping Remus with his feet as he passed over him. He swung his leg off the broom and handed it to him. "Give it a try."

"What?" Remus dropped his bag of Flavored Beans and rolled over to stare at James.

"C'mon, give it a try." James repeated, grinning. He was a little breathless as he plopped down in the grass beside him and grabbed a package of Cockroach Clusters. "Get some exercise and stop hogging the food."

"But I've never ridden in my life!" Remus exclaimed fearfully, putting a protective hand over his beans as James made a grab for them. "I skipped every riding lesson in first year by telling them I was sick."

"You passed up flying for the Hospital Wing?" James was incredulous. "_You, _my friend, have been missing out on the best part of life."

There was a lot that Remus had missed out on, yes, but zooming around sixty-feet in the air on a flimsy stick with some hay attached at the end? No, he would say that wasn't one of them.

_Try it._ Sirius persuaded in his mind. _I'll guide you. _

"No, Sirius." Remus protested, but he felt his limbs defy his will and pull himself into a standing position. As Sirius used Remus's hand to take the proffered broom from James, the tousled-hair boy beamed up at him.

"Bet you can fly better than Peter." He encouraged. Remus gave a dry laugh. "Go easy on him, Sirius."

Remus watched as Sirius positioned the broom in front of him and threw a leg over it.

"The key to good flying," Sirius imitated Madame Hooch, "is to keep a clear, focused mind and know exactly what you want to do. Think of the broom not as a separate piece but as a part of yourself."

_That's difficult._ Remus complained. Sirius just threw back his head and laughed.

"You're a top student. This should be a pretty easy concept to grasp. Anyway," Sirius continued, "just point the broom handle where you want to go. Oh, and keep your hands on the broomstick at all times unless your name is Potter or Black."

Sirius kicked off the ground and sailed into the air like a bullet. Remus shrieked and demanded that they land immediately.

"Calm down," Sirius chuckled, slowing down by a modicum. "You're safe with me."

Remus continued to make noises of panic and fear for the next ten minutes until Sirius agreed not to go above fifty-feet in the air. And because Remus fiercely refused to see "just how much greater Sirius's loop-de-loops were compared to Jamie's," they were confined to flying figure eights just high enough to brush the treetops with their feet. Sirius leaned backwards on the broom and craned his neck to face the sky, now dyed several shades of deep purple. For a while, they were content to simply stare at the vast expanse above them in silence.

"Can't remember the last time I did this." Sirius murmured.

Remus tore himself away from the view. "I'm sorry."

He sounded so sincere that Sirius had to smile and shake his head. "I'm happy now-flying like this with you."

Another interval passed in silence, before it was broken by Remus.

"Sirius?" He asked timidly. "Could you…could you tell me what happened?"

"My death?" Sirius cocked his head to the side.

"Yes. You don't have to talk about it-I was just curious-"

"How about I show you?" Sirius murmured softly.

And before Remus could object, they were dropping like a boulder to the ground. Remus screamed and squeezed his eyes shut, expecting certain death. When he didn't feel the crunch of his bones against the ground, he opened his eyes and found himself standing in the middle of a dark room. He twisted around and could see rain pelting the windows, could hear thunder rolling in the sky.

_Where am I?_

A flash of lightning streaked past the window, illuminating the room long enough to allow Remus a glimpse of a boy standing on the stairs leading down to the room. A glass lamp flickered to life in the boy's hands. The light threw sharp, jagged shadows over his features, making his dark eyes glitter.

He had black eyes and black hair like Sirius. In fact, he looked a whole lot like Sirius. He had the same thin face, held himself in the same posture, and even shared the same dark scowl. At this moment, the dark scowl was directed at Remus.

"Sirius." He said quietly.

"Regulus." Remus heard himself reply coldly, though he wasn't aware of speaking. Then it hit him: he must be seeing this through the eyes of someone else. Of Sirius. Then this must be Sirius's memory.

"Looking for Mum and Dad?" Regulus leaned on the banister.

"Where's the Muggle hunt." It wasn't a question.

Regulus stared long and hard at him, studying his face before straightening up. "I'll tell you-only because you didn't hand me over to Dumbledore."

"That's _Headmaster_ Dumbledore to you." Remus heard himself snarl.

Regulus shrugged. "Remember the little mudblood girl I was practicing the Cruciatus on?"

Remus felt himself bristle. "Don't tell me-"

"That's right." Regulus looked bored. "I didn't get her because you stopped me by breaking my ribs-"

"You deserved it." Remus heard himself spat.

"-and now Mum and Dad are going to pay her house a little visit."

Horror washed over Remus.

The scowl on Regulus Black's face turned to a malicious smile. "You can go if you want, but don't blame me if you come back looking like this-" He parted the front of his silk bathrobe with one hand and revealed a heavily bandaged chest and stomach.

Remus felt rage surge through his body and blind him. The next thing he knew, he was soaring through the icy night air on a broomstick. He spotted a house in the distance with bright flashes of green and red light exploding over it. He quickly descended, landed roughly on the grass, and threw aside the broom. Then he was hurdling through the trees, panting, praying, hoping-

A Stunner shot past his nose. Remus felt himself shoot one back at the attacker. He heard a scream and knew the man had fallen. Rushing to the man's side, he tore the Death Eater mask from his face and placed it over his pale, sweaty features. He snatched up the other's wand as well and sprinted in the direction where his attacker had come from.

He burst out of the brush to see the house in wrecks: windows were broken, doors were unhinged, and parts of the walls were either scorched or blasted open. Remus looked around and saw two men and a woman clad in pajamas and bathrobes, waving their wands in battle against the hooded figures of the Death Eaters. A frightened girl was cowering behind the porch, clutching her little brother. Both were openly crying in fear.

Remus pulled his own hooded cloak tighter around himself and made for the children. He needed to get them out of here first.

Suddenly, a short, pudgy Death Eater emerged in the doorway behind the girl and her brother, dragging in one hand what appeared to be the family dog and cackled wildly. The hooded figure swayed-probably intoxicated, Remus guessed.

"Latimer!" The girl screamed, letting go of the little boy with one hand to grab the creature.

The Death Eater lashed out with his foot, kicking her in the face. She fell, letting go of her little brother who jumped up with a frightened wail and ran down the porch.

"Tommy!" The girl cried.

The woman clad in her bathrobe who was busy warding off a fresh wave of spells directed at her turned at the cry, her heart-shaped face the very epitome of terror. "Beatrix! BEHIND YOU!"

Remus lifted his wand and cursed the Death Eater, who howled in pain and clutched at his eyes, dropping his wand and staggering into a patio table. As some of the nearby Death Eaters turned in surprise, Remus dashed for the girl, scooping up Tommy as he ran.

"I'm here to help you!" He shouted as Beatrix struggled against him. "Take your brother and leave! And the dog! Get away from here!"

The girl stopped thrashing to turn her tear-stained face on him. "I c-can't! My parents-"

"I'll take care of them! Go!" Remus shouted. He pulled the wand he'd taken out of his pocket and thrust it in her shaking hands.

"Nobody's going anywhere." A cool, female voice said from behind them. Remus turned. One word ran through his mind.

_Mum._

The woman standing a few feet away had her mask off and her wand drawn. On either side of her stood two other masked figures, poised for battle.

Remus shoved Tommy into Beatrix's arms and shielded them with his body. "_Move."_ He snapped.

The pretty face of Mrs. Black twisted into a wry smile. "Make me."

And Remus did. He lashed out with his wand, again, again, and again. But the raven-haired lady blocked them all down with a flourish of her arm.

"You call that spell-casting?" She laughed-a high, cold sound. As if to demonstrate her point, she flicked her wand at Remus and he felt the lower half of his mask explode, cutting into his cheeks. He hurried to cover his bleeding face. He couldn't afford to let her know who she was attacking.

"Please."

Remus turned to look behind him.

"Please." Beatrix whispered, staring up at him with Tommy in her lap and clutching the stolen wand in her hand as though it were a foreign object. "Please don't let them kill us, please. I can't die-I can't. I've g-got to attend Hogwarts, I've got to t-take care of Tommy and Latimer and Mum and Dad-"

A spell whizzed dangerously past Remus's head. He whipped around, clenching his teeth under his hand.

"Where are you looking?" Mrs. Black drawled, arms crossed over her chest.

_I can't let them die. _

Mrs. Black lifted one hand lazily. Her lips parted to form a curse.

_They have something to live for. They have a family. A future._

Her lips formed the first word. Her wand arched, as if in slow motion, in a half-circle.

_My pointless existence for their future._

Remus leaped off the porch as the red lips formed their second word and the wand obeyed their command and a jet of bright green shot from the tip. Remus slashed his wand in a diagonal line downward and he felt a wild, grim satisfaction as a gash sliced across her chest, sending an arch of blood spraying through the air.

Then the Avada Kedavra hit him.

He felt his hand slip away from his face. The mask fell. He felt the drops of her blood splatter on his skin. He saw her look of horrified shock as he hit the ground, and he would've smiled if he could have. Somewhere in the background, he heard Beatrix's strangled cry.

_Seems a pretty fair trade to me._

And everything went dark.

Someone was calling him, from very far away. Their voice was so soft, it sounded as though they were standing a Quidditch field away.

"Remus…"

He groaned.

"Remus, talk to me. Wake up."

He didn't want to move.

Then he felt a sharp slap across the face.

Remus jumped up and his eyes snapped open. He was lying on Hogwarts' grassy field, shaded by the night sky. James and Peter were peering into his face, twin looks of worry decorating their features. Then he remembered what happened. The girl. Mrs. Black.

"Beatrix!" He gasped, trying to get to his feet. "Beatrix! Where is she? Where did she go!"

"What are you talking about, mate?" James grabbed his shoulders and wrestled him down. Peter grabbed his flailing legs. "Calm down!"

"NO!" Remus thrashed harder, shoving at James. "MOVE! I NEED TO FIND HER! AND TOMMY! THE DEATH EATERS! THEY ATTACKED HER! THEY-"

"STOP THAT!" James bellowed into Remus's face, panic wrinkling his brow. "There are no Death Eaters here!"

"Yes! Yes, there are-" Remus struggled into a sitting position and tried to point in the direction of the house. He found himself pointing at the Forbidden Forest. A few hooded figures were watching them from the very edge of the woods.

James followed his stunned look and sought them out with his Seeker eyes. He cursed, whipped out the Marauder's Map and tapped it. The lines of ink spread across the parchment and three dots by the Forbidden Forest read "Lucius Malfoy," "Bellatrix Lestrange," and "Augustus Rookwood."

He relaxed. "It's just those idiots."

But Remus wasn't listening. He was grasping his head between both hands, calling frantically for Sirius-

_Talk to me! What happened to her?!_

Sirius was silent.

_Please, tell me she's okay!_ _Sirius, don't ignore me!_

James pulled Remus's hands away and forced his chin up. "Breathe." He commanded.

Remus took a shaky breath.

"Now, exhale."

Remus let the breath out.

"Good." The look of alarm lifted from James's face. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

Remus instinctively reached for his face. His fingers met smooth, unscathed skin. "I guess not…what happened?"

"You fell off your broom." Peter squeaked, still looking rather alarmed. "You were just flying with your head thrown back and all of a sudden you faltered and fell."

Remus rubbed his temples. It was all too much to take in.

"C'mon," James put an arm around his middle and lifted him up with Peter's help. "Let's get you to Madame Pomfrey's."

"I don't want to."

"And I don't care."

xxxx xxxx xxxx xxxx

Lucius turned and stepped into the forest, a look of glee pasted on his face. "Looks like the top student of Hogwarts can't even do something as simple as flying a broom."

Bellatrix and Augustus chuckled as they followed him.

They walked until the woods parted into a clearing where the moonlight spilled across the bare ground. Two hooded men were standing at the edge, apparently waiting for their appointment. One of them stepped forward into the moonlight and lowered his hood. "Lucius." He said.

"Father." Lucius replied, giving the man a respectful bow. He nodded towards the other hooded figure. "Mr. McQuillen. It's a pleasure to see you again."

The man grunted. He stepped into the moonlight as well, removing his hood and displaying a badly scarred face. An eye-patch covered what Lucius assumed was once a functioning, right blue eye. No matter. The piercing stare the left one delivered more than made up for the loss.

McQuillen rubbed the stubble on his chin. "You've got quite a son there, Octavius. And those other two are?"

"Bellatrix Lestrange and Augustus Rookwood." Lucius replied smoothly.

Bellatrix pulled down her hood and looked up at the two adults with admiration, pushing her black hair behind on ear. "I'm very pleased to make your acquaintance." Augustus murmured the same and bowed deeply.

McQuillen gave them both looks of approval.

"Well, then." Octavius drawled. "To business."

Lucius's face split into a smirk and he nodded. "Please follow me, gentleman."

He led them through the clearing, into the thick woods, and continued to walk for several minutes until they reached another clearing. This one was unlike the first, however. Here, the trees surrounding the area arched their branches to form a network above the clearing and blocked out the moonlight. In the middle of the clearing was a gigantic hole that looked like it might have been made by a monster of some sort.

"This is where it lives." Lucius gestured to the hole.

"Lucius suggested this alternative to me just today." Octavius spoke. "It appears that he discovered it today while attending Care of Magical Creatures."

"The professor turned loose a batch of Guinea Weasels and the students were required to capture them with specific materials." Lucius elaborated. "Ours escaped into the forest and lead us to this beauty."

"Lucius believes that using it will make the plans of penetrating Hogwarts' defensive wall much easier."

"What exactly lives in there?" McQuillen stepped up to take a closer look.

"Careful," Lucius warned. "It's quite vicious."

"And how do you plan on taming this _"vicious" _creature?" McQuillen fixed his one, lightning blue eye on Lucius's grey ones.

Lucius beckoned to Bellatrix and Augustus, who stepped up with two boxes in their arms. Augustus opened his and pulled out a petrified Mrs. Norris with disgust. Bellatrix took out a glass jar containing a bright, fiery purple fire.

McQuillen instantly snapped to attention. "Is that what I think it is?" His deep voice held an air of excitement.

"Aphrodite's Fire." Lucius smiled triumphantly. "The very flames that will put the plan into action and make the attack on Hogwarts a success."

**A/N: **IT WASN'T ME, IT WAS THE INTERNET. I came home on Friday and found my internet as dead as cold turkey. It stayed that way for the rest of the night and I couldn't post this up, as many times as I tried. TT I'm sorry, guys. But at least it worked today. And I hope the fact that this chapter is the longest yet will have made up for the lost time. I have a few questions for you though, my pretty ones: 1) I want to know if anyone feels that I'm giving Peter too little of a role. I wasn't trying to but it feels like I'm neglecting him. 2) What did you think of Ellery and Knox? If you liked them-or, well, didn't hate them-I'm thinking of bringing those two back a few more times (it gets tough dragging out new characters every time). That's all. Oh, and uh, in real life, I'm having semester finals next week, so chapter eight will be postponed to either next Sunday or next Monday. I'd rather write **GitB** than study, I assure you, but I can't afford to fail Calculus. weeps bitterly My math skills are just barely able to fill a teaspoon. Sometimes, I even wonder how I got into that class, gahahahahaha:'D Well, thanks for reading! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter (I got a real kick out of writing it) and see you all next time!

Toodles,

**Raenef**


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